Diabolus ex Machina
by hedgehogkween
Summary: Upon being brought to the palace of Spades for his wedding, a new Queen of mysterious origins makes a trade with a demon in exchange for his responsibilities. Meanwhile, Spades begins to sow seeds of war. (Cardverse/Sweet Devil AU. Also smut, and probably graphic violence/gore at some point. Oh, and main pairings are UsUk and FrUk. Updates every Tuesday!)
1. Cracked Wedding Bells

Ch.1

On an early spring day, a young Queen-to-be sat high in the palace of Spades. It was his wedding day, with a groom whom he'd yet to meet in a place he'd only just become acquainted with. His was a whaling family to the far eastern side of the country, and it had taken him over a week to get here from there only to find out that they were to be wed. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that every person in the damned kingdom was more excited for the event than he was. Even the day itself was beautiful for their wedding; the tall, ancient trees sent tiny, fluttering petals across the gardens, covering the remaining snow of the spent winter season. In the gardens below the ceremonies were being readied, an arch with white lilies and ribbons and green leaves draped around it stood at the end of a long white-covered walkway. For all that he saw, however, he was forced to watch the preparations from seclusion in a small dressing room, as so the King wouldn't see him by accident- bad luck it was, they said, seeing the bride before the wedding. So here he sat, dressed in a dress of white that draped around his slender legs in layers of lace, tulle, and cotton. Below hid dainty white shoes with heels so high he swore he could trip over himself on them. At least the lengthy train could be pinned up, he thought, for dancing's sake if nothing else. A tiara sat in his sandy blond hair, from which a veil hung over his eyes. He'd lifted it enough to see the garden however, as the bay window he sat in was high enough for him to struggle in seeing the setup aside from a wash of colors and movement. He sighed, tugging the curtains shut.

"I'm not ready to go through with this…" He muttered to himself, arms crossed over his chest. The bust of his dress had been shrunk considerably to compensate for his lack of feminine features, he thought the seamstress seemed somewhat disappointed when she had finally returned with the dress, and her stitching reflected it. "Oh my, I'll be needed down there soon… to marry a man I've yet to meet, and to rule a land I've yet to love…" He sighed and stepped away from the window to the mirror. He hated his appearance. "Look at me, weighed down by all these fabrics and trappings, I can hardly walk. And all this silly celebration for a couple who have yet to so much as meet…"

"It does seem a bit much, does it not?" The young Queen-to-be spun as fast as his heeled shoes would allow him, though upon seeing the person who'd spoken he swore he was looking in a mirror. The only differences were the crimson red hair and the black uniform he wore, but he shared the Queen's own lovely features.

"Wh-who are you?" he murmured, taking a hesitant step away. "How did you get into this room? There are guards outside that door, and all through this wing of the palace, how did you…?" he stopped as his counterpart laughed at him.

"Oh, my dear boy, what concerns have you for the status of your security?" he asked, falling back and landing comfortably on what appeared to be thin air. "And on your wedding day no less, such an occasion! You should be thrilled to be getting such a new chance at life, and the life of luxury no less, what a wonder, but… I wonder, you aren't truly enjoying this day, are you?" The trespasser frowned, rolling onto his stomach. "They haven't even asked your name yet… have they, Arthur?"

"H-how did _you_ come to know my name?" Arthur hissed, stepping away until his back hit the mirror. In its reflection the stranger had graceful bat like wings fluttering behind him, two stubby black horns, and a wiry tail that flicked his cheek playfully when he looked back, only to find that the odd features had materialized. "D-demon!"

"Yes, perhaps, but one in your likeness." It replied. "And surely no-one will deny one who bears such a likeness, rather give the look-alike what they desire…" Arthur hesitated a moment, watching the strange devil toy with his invisible throne, pinching at a cushion that wasn't there. His peridot eyes narrowed, his figure straightening up.

"And… what is it that you want here, demon?" he asked, his voice soft but clear. "Surely there is nothing any mortal such as me can offer you that you cannot get yourself…"

"Oh but there is." The ginger-headed beast cut in, rolling off his invisible perch to stand before Arthur again. "Something only you can offer in fact, and I think we both know what it is…"

"A soul?" Arthur hissed, his fingers clenching. "You'll not have mine."

"Of course not." The demon looked unimpressed, almost disappointed in Arthur. "There are plenty of stupid humans looking to have an abstraction, if I want souls there are plenty that will practically throw themselves at me." He stepped forward, looking Arthur in the eye. "No, I want something else, something that _only_ you can give me, and I hope you've got an idea of what it is, your royal highness…" A smirk tugged at his dark lips, unmatched by Arthur's scowl.

"…Queenship then." He muttered. "How would I go about giving you that? This mark is imprinted on my body, I've tried to get rid of it myself…" Again the demon was unsatisfied with Arthur's response, placing a clawed hand against his chest as if to hold him in place.

"Dear child, I don't need to take that from you to get it myself…" He 'tsk'ed softly, his claws digging into Arthur's chest piece a bit. "I just need to use you as a… vessel of sorts. You'll get the benefits of being Queen, and I'll do the dirty work. You know, your 'Queenly duties?'" He chuckled. "I'll even shorten your time as Queen if you'd like…" Arthur tried to step away but was reminded of his position of being pinned between the mirror and the monster. What a thing to happen on his wedding day.

"Th-there has to be a catch…" He grumbled. "Something, you're going to trick me in some way, just like in all the stories, that always happens…" He waited, unconvinced by the demon's feigned shock.

"I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing."

"Don't lie." Arthur fought him weakly at first but stopped, not wanting to damage his dress and give anyone the wrong idea. "…what are you going to get out of this? Why do you want this?" The demon stared at him a while, slowly letting his first defenses crumble.

"I suppose I could say… I'd like to be in your shoes." He replied, again lowering his voice. "Figuratively that is, not literally, those things are a nightmare." Arthur was about to throw back some crude comment when a clattering sound came from the door. The sign was clear; their time was short. The demon froze them in the moment and turned back to Arthur, his grip tensed slightly.

"Do we have a deal human?" He hissed. Out of a sheer loss for what to do Arthur blurted out an answer, shoving at the demon's grip.

"Yes, yes, we've got a deal, but that hardly answers my-" He stopped. With the blink of an eye the creature was gone, leaving a flustered Queen-to-be in his wake, gaping at the place where he'd once stood. The door opened and a servant poked his head in, smiling a little when he saw Arthur.

"You look nice your highness." He stepped in, approaching Arthur to straighten his dress. He was practically blind in one eye and couldn't see the marks the demon left, not that it would matter much. The marks left were steadily vanishing. Arthur didn't even notice. He was still shocked by the sudden occurrence with his demonic doppelganger, trying to wrap his head around who he was, what he wanted, why he'd only just shown up now, and why the servant boy was giving him such a strange look. He blinked, steadying himself before trying to speak again.

"I-I'm sorry, did you say something…?" He asked, his voice quavering. The young man frowned and stepped back, looking him over.

"I just asked if you were alright… are you?" He frowned. "You look a little pale…" Arthur sucked in a breath, taking a few moments to process his words before forcing himself to smile meekly.

"I blame it on n-nerves…" he tittered softly. Any worry in the servant's expression faded, leaving him with an understanding smile. He patted Arthur on the shoulder and started leading him to the door.

"That's alright your majesty, it happens to lots of people on their wedding day." He started, smoothing a bit of Arthur's hair. "You're probably right, it's just nerves… don't worry, the King is a kind man, so you haven't got anything to worry about, everyone knows…" He went on speaking after this of course, Arthur just couldn't bring himself to listen. He felt colder inside, like something icy had settled in the pit of his stomach and was chilling him from the inside, but very slightly so, just enough to make him shiver. He didn't like it. He wanted to know where that demon had gone, and he certainly hoped that it wasn't where he thought it was.

_I'm right up here child, don't worry over it too much. I won't ruin anything for you yet…_

He froze in his tracks, stopping the motor mouth of the servant boy with him. With a groan he let himself fall against the nearest bit of wall, his hand against his forehead.

"_Get out…_" he growled. If the servant had heard him he would have thought him mad. Instead the young man simply took him by the arm again and helped him down the hall, trying to comfort him for the rest of the walk.

"Don't worry your majesty, it won't be so bad. Like I said, the King is a very nice man. Everyone knows you two are going to get along just perfectly, the marks of royalty only choose those most able for their positions and all that…"

_Why won't that idiot just shut his mouth?_

Arthur scowled. He wondered if the demon could hear him when he was just thinking so that he could tell him to shut up. The last thing he needed was another voice in his head during the wedding.

/ \

It seemed no time at all had passed when they were outside the gardens. Arthur was letting himself be straightened and altered by the servants, having his hair smoothed and dress inspected for stray wrinkles and the like. He didn't see why it was so important. After all, it was just a dress. He never got the chance to ask. It seemed that the numerous servants couldn't take a hint about the ceremony needing to start and when the music started playing through the gardens they scattered, some not satisfied that they had done all they could. Arthur's veil was in place again at least, and he clutched a bouquet of baby's breath tight in his hands as he began his seemingly endless walk down the aisle. People stared at him, too many, each face less familiar than the one preceding it. They all looked so strange, scary even. He was tempted to just shut his eyes entirely until he caught sight of who he could only hope was the King. It was as if someone had focused the sun itself to shine directly onto him, lighting his bright cerulean eyes and sun-kissed cheeks and the brass buttons that ran up his commander's uniform. His lips were tugged in a small, curious frown, until he seemed to realize that Arthur was looking at him. Then he put on a smile warm enough to melt the winter snow- no wonder the season had ended so quickly. Arthur must have been turning bright red in the face because the man was laughing, and trying hard to hide it as well. He almost forgot that he was walking to join him at his side until he was right there, the man offering him his hands. Arthur stared hesitantly before letting his hands rest in the King's, quickly letting his gaze fall to the ground. Just seconds after the priest began speaking he felt a squeeze to his hands. He glanced up warily to find the man staring at him, his smile softened slightly.

"Are you alright?" he whispered "Your hands are shaking…" Arthur gulped, his eyes flicking down to their hands for a moment to confirm that they were, indeed, trembling in the King's.

"I'm fine." he replied quickly. "Just… just a little nervous is all."

"I understand." Arthur looked up. The King's smile had returned. "I was terrified when I found out about this little arrangement. Can't blame you for being scared of marrying someone you've never met…" He stared, then slowly allowed himself a small smile. Perhaps he could learn to like this man.

"…yes, I suppose not. Thank you." His gaze fell again, barely in time for him to hear those words he'd dreaded since he learned of their marriage;

"You may kiss the Queen."

Arthur felt his breath catch in his throat. He looked up at the King, eyes wide as the veil was lifted from his eyes by his gentle gloved hands. One move to the back of his head, the other clasped his hand against his chest. He leaned in just enough for their lips to touch together. Arthur didn't even have time to shut his eyes before the moment had passed and the sound of cheering filled his ears. He blinked, greeted with the sight of the King beaming down at him. He wrapped an arm around Arthur's waist and turned them so that the wedding attendees could see them better. While not entirely welcomed by him Arthur didn't mind his hand placement, it helped him feel somewhat grounded in the sea of strange faces. He mustered up a small smile and waved as the King was doing. He felt a slight tug at his side and glanced up at the King again.

"Alfred." He whispered. "In case you were wondering… you may call me Alfred." Arthur offered a small smile and nodded, stepping a tiny bit closer.

"My name's Arthur…" He replied.

"Arthur?" The King chuckled softly, giving him a pat on the side. "Yeah, that's a nice name… it suits you. You look like an Arthur."

_He's absolutely right, you do look like an Arthur. I don't think that's a compliment._

Arthur's smile faltered. "Th-thank you…" He mumbled, half considering what the demon said. Alfred only nodded and gazed out at his people again, starting his and Arthur's walk back down the aisle together.

"You know, it's funny…" He mumbled, drawing Arthur's attention. "I kind of thought that you would be the one wearing this uniform." He kept his warm smile, but Arthur's faltered slightly.

"What do you mean?" Alfred looked over at him, surprised by his genuine curiosity.

"Nobody told you? I would have thought you would know…" He muttered, putting his smile on again for the people. "The Queen is in control of all warlike pursuits of the country, the army and navy and things. I don't have any power in that area, not aside from the general Kingly respect I get." He laughed a little, expecting Arthur to do the same. It took him a few moments to recognize the look on Arthur's face as one of utter bewilderment.

"O-oh…" Alfred's face fell at his Queen's reaction. Thankfully they'd reached the end of the aisle, and they were mostly out of view of their attendees. "Oh, goodness, that's… th-that's an awful lot of power for someone like me, don't you think?" Alfred's eyes narrowed slightly in confusion. He led Arthur inside to a small outcropping in the wall, away from the path to the reception.

"What do you mean?" He asked, his hand resting now on Arthur's shoulder. The smaller man glanced up at him in almost annoyance.

"Alfred, I'm a commoner, I can't run an army." To this Alfred simply laughed.

"No you aren't, your royal mark is right here, I can see it." He touched his fingers to the back of Arthur's neck, causing him to jump in surprise. He swatted his hand away, shooting him a glare.

"I'm serious Alfred, I don't know the first thing about leading an army."

"Well the mark wouldn't have appeared if that were true." Alfred turned and pecked his lips to the delicate Spadian emblem on the base of Arthur's neck. "I'm confident in your ability to lead. Come on then, let's go out and meet our subjects, they'll get impatient if kept waiting for too long." And with that he took Arthur's hand and led him up, hurrying them both to the reception.

\ /

The party went late, late into the night, fueled on dancing and alcohol to its numerous guests. At some point Arthur had let Alfred slip away from him, leaving him stranded in the ocean of strangers in the grand ballroom. He had no desire to dance, and even less desire to socialize with any of these people. They had little to talk about, he was boring, and the sorts of things they did want to talk about frankly repulsed him. So, as a result, he spent much of his evening in a small outcropping in one of the numerous enormous windows, staring up at the now moonlight sky with wide, drowsy eyes. The only thing that could have distracted him from his brooding would be a handsome man in a suit which, however out of place, was exactly who showed up. Not his husband of course, it couldn't be that easy, but another man.

"Bonsoir, Spade Queen." He bowed low and offered Arthur his hand. His long blonde hair hung over his eyes as he did, though he quickly stood and smoothed it behind his ear. He wore a titian cape around his shoulders, and a golden sash around his middle as if to separate his top half from his lengthy legs. When he stood to his full height he may have been just a few inches taller than Arthur himself, but one would hardly know it. "My name is Francis, of Diamonds. I would like to congratulate you on your marriage to King Alfred, and… to ask you for the next dance." He punctuated himself with a smile that made Arthur feel the blush creeping to his cheeks. Damn it all, no one had warned him that these Diamond people would be so charming. He hesitantly allowed the man to take his hand, shivering when his fingers clasped around it.

_Dance with him, we'll want him to like you later. Trust me. You'll love the guy anyway._

"Th-thank you…" Arthur coughed softly in the other direction. He'd forgotten all about the demon in his head it had been so silent. He hated the thought of another being up there, going through his thoughts as one would the archives of a library. The man only chuckled and led him out to the dance floor.

"I understand you're a little new to all of this." Arthur blinked, snapping his eyes back up to the stranger. Francis laughed and placed his hand on the small of Arthur's back, tugging him as close as seemed necessary. "Being a Queen I mean. Alfred had been telling everyone about you, how nice you look, but just from what he's said I get the impression that you haven't a clue what you're doing." Somehow he managed to keep on smiling, even as Arthur fumbled with words for a reply.

"P-preposterous…" He muttered, lowering his gaze to his feet.

"Is it?" Francis quirked a thin eyebrow. "Seeing as how these positions are picked, I would think there have been plenty of Kings and Queens in the past without a clue about ruling. The King of Diamonds hardly has a clue about lawmaking, and he's been doing it for ages, the poor man." Arthur scowled, though it turned to somewhat of a grimace as the music started. Great, now he was stuck with him until the dance was over.

"You know, maybe there are some…" He started. "But I'd like to think that I can at least manage my own duties on my own. I'm no stinking, arrogant, lazy, cheese eating, wine guzzling, ra-" He paused, only to take in the hurt look on Francis's face, and the slight slowing of his steps. "Oh… o-oh my goodness, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean… I-I'm sure you aren't-"

"No, no, it's alright…" Francis cut him short, trying to make himself smile again. "At least half of those things are true… and, well, you aren't much like what they say Spadians are like either." Arthur allowed himself a frown, though out of confusion rather than distaste.

"What is it that they say about us?" He asked. "Ah… I'm not from around here you see, I'm-"

"We all know where you're from Arthur." Francis had now replaced his smile. "And in all honesty, I think I might know more about your former living conditions than even your new husband does." He nodded in some other direction. Arthur looked and found that, to his slight surprise, Alfred was standing not twenty feet away with a small group of nobles grouped around him and laughing at something he could only imagine being immensely funny.

"So that's where he'd been all night…" He muttered. "He left me to fend for myself out here, I don't know what he thought I'd do, I told him I don't know a thing about politics or military or economy or… weird rich people things." Francis almost snorted with laughter at the last bit, turning Arthur's head and his attention back to him.

"Well, that is one thing they say about the Spadian nobles… they have an odd way of managing their money." He gestured out at the others Alfred was with. Upon closer examination one could see that most of them had powdered their faces pure white, making the shimmering of candlelight on them seem gaudy where it made others look elegant. Some had tiny baubles plastered to their faces, little jewels and bits of gold and brass as if it was actually tasteful. Arthur erupted with laughter, hushed with Francis's help to keep others from staring at the odd pair. He found himself clutching Arthur to his chest to smother the sound, watching for the various glares of the other dancers but finding none.

"Th-those women had brass around their eyes…" Arthur snickered. His face was pink, tears dripping from his eyes. Francis felt some tug inside to chuckle with him, slowly loosening his grip.

"I told you, Spadians are mad people." Francis muttered. His hand slid around Arthur's waist, pulling him close enough that others wouldn't hear him. "Horribly vain, and every bit as arrogant as we are. They love to peacock themselves around with their big dresses and fancy accessories and horrible taste, they love weird pets and weird food and spectacle, they're gluttons for spectacle… gluttons in general really. And how could I forget, they love to put their-" Arthur almost bumped into Francis when they stopped. He rubbed his eyes, glancing up for an explanation but finding little. A quick scan of the area showed other dance partners parting and giving little 'good-byes' to each other. Both hesitated, then Francis slowly, painfully slowly let Arthur slip away from him. Arthur hadn't realized he was standing on his toes until he came down, cheeks still flushed and throat aching from his laughing fit. In the corner by the punch bowl where Alfred had led his guests their eyes met, and Arthur's small grin faded almost instantly.

"Shit…" he hissed, giving Francis a nudge. The other looked up just in time for Alfred to march his way over, yanking Arthur away from him.

"What do you think you're doing here Francis?" He hissed, ignoring Arthur's protests. Arthur was about to shove him away when he heard an odd noise. From the previously witty and lively Francis came an almost dark sort of chuckle. The light shine of affection in his eyes seemed to dim and sharpen and his stance shifted to both of his feet, his arms crossing over his chest.

"If I remember correctly, Alfred, I was sent an invitation." He replied coolly. "Everyone was sent one, all of the suits, including myself… and the Queen of Hearts, if I remember right." His eyes narrowed slightly. Alfred's grip on his own Queen tightened slightly.

"Your Queen must not have been if you feel the need to go after mine." Alfred growled. "Or am I in position to remind you that you have no Queen?" It was as if the mere reminder was enough to shatter all of Francis's new defenses. He was quick to regain them, of course, but he was weaker than he had been.

"H-had you not heard?" He started again. "A new one was found, she is sister to my Jack… we never sent out word, seeing as there was no wedding. Unlike you we don't force strangers to marry in Diamonds…" Now came Alfred's turn to weaken slightly. Arthur didn't give him the chance to build up again, shoving him off and taking a stand between the two.

"H-hold on a moment…" He straightened up, looking back and forth between the two. "How is it that you two know each other?" He almost glared at Alfred, forgetting about the gleaming gold wring on his finger that just hours ago had been gifted to him as a symbol of their 'love'. Now the two men stared at him, one in disgusted shock and the other merely startled.

"Arthur…" Alfred spoke up at last. "This man is the King of Diamonds." Silence settled between the three of them. It was only then that they realized how deathly still the room had become. Every pair of eyes was turned onto them, waiting to see what the trio would do with the new information brought to the poor, unknowing little Queen. Arthur stepped back, looking Francis over again. Well, that would explain his vast knowledge of Diamond goings-on.

Francis looked almost crushed, giving a small bow and stepping away.

"My apologies, your highness…" He murmured. "I did not realize that my people were so… unwelcome, by Spadian company." A ripple of voice ran through the crowd, those in attendance who were of Diamond origin starting away from the center. Arthur had a feeling he would have been led away if he hadn't been smart enough to run after Francis, earning gasps of surprise.

"You are more than welcome here, King Francis." He grabbed at Francis's wrist. Cerulean eyes stared in shock, worry even, but Arthur didn't let go. He only straightened, shifting his grip to the foreign King's hand and holding it in his own. "It is an honor and a privilege to be in your company."

/ \

To say that the remainder of the night was something of a disaster would be an understatement. Shortly after the reception ended, the guests were hurried out and each member of the newlywed royal couple was rushed to their respective dressing rooms to be cleaned up. Though he didn't see where Alfred was taken exactly he recognized his own miserable little room, and even as he was undressed from his heavy wedding gown he stared at himself in the mirror. Just that morning he'd met the accursed demon there, now here he was being redressed in what could only be wedding lingerie and a thin, white nightgown over them, before he was escorted away.

The Spadian royal bedroom- that is, the one intended for the King and Queen, not those for the countless guests the palace could accommodate- was bigger than any house Arthur had even been in. Namely his own, when he had lived in Two. The walls were long and paneled in the country's signature royal blue, white, silver- the national colors of Spades. They were prevalent everywhere now that he looked, from the deeply colored bedcovers to the white marble floor to the elegant silver framed portraits hanging on the walls, also painted mostly with these colors. The ceiling was high above the canopied top of their bed, though the silvery silken cloth hanging over the top obscured it from his view. White and baby blue flower petals had been scattered on the bedspread, a few of which Arthur's splayed body brushed up against. He sighed, trying to lie still. He'd been told that this was the position to lie in, something about 'sensuality,' he hadn't listened much after they'd given him his little costume change.

"I don't see why I have to wear this… _thing_." He muttered, glancing down at the lacy white lingerie he had been so generously provided by the royal wedding planners.

_You know how Spadians are dear, so set in their silly traditions…_

Arthur scowled and tried to relax himself again. "Easy for you to say, you're not the one who's being forced to wear it, it's humiliating…"

_I'd switch places with you in an instant. Why, would you rather I be the one wearing it?_

"Absolutely not." Arthur lifted his head a little as if expecting to see the demon there. "Alfred will know it's you. He's an idiot yes, but not that much of an idiot."

_I could just borrow your body for a little while, do this little thing for you…_

Arthur felt he would glare at the beast if he could, flopping his head back against the pillow and shutting his eyes.

_It's very simple really, you'll just feel like you were asleep the whole time… and you'll wake up perfectly fine in the morning. Come on, I've been so bored up here all day, letting you have all the fun…_

He hesitated. Alfred would realize something was up in a heartbeat, he knew he would, but at the same time… he wasn't really ready for a 'traditional' wedding night after the little fiasco at their reception. "…Is it safe?" he murmured.

_The worst you'll get is a sore ass in the morning, but I'd take that as a good sign._

A slight blush crept across Arthur's face. Rather blunt this demon was, though he figured that this would be to his advantage at some point. "F-fine, fine. But if you try and pull anything on me I swear there will be trouble." He cursed himself for letting the last thing he said be a stuttering relinquishment of his body, but just as the demon had promised what followed wasn't so unlike falling asleep, drifting into a deep, peaceful slumber.

The demon's luminescent eyes flicked open mere moments later, scanning the room and the bed along with it. He sat up, ruining Arthur's perfect placement.

"Ooh, it feels so good to occupy a nice, fleshy body after so long…" He grumbled, stretching Arthur's narrow arms out in front of him. The lingerie Arthur had been wearing earned little more than a distasteful glare before he pressed a finger to them, the lacy material that stood between Arthur's ivory skin and the cool, crisp air falling away as if his very fingertips were as sharp as blades. "Let's see what I can do with this gauche little getup…"

\ /

Alfred had spent the last nearly fifteen minutes in their small powder room, undressing and cleaning himself with a damp cloth. There was no time for him to bathe properly, not if he wanted to get a good enough night's sleep to perform his duties as King the following day. He'd have quite a bit to do, seeing as he'd be attending to some of the Jack's duties while the man showed Arthur around. The mere thought of his new Queen earned a little huff of a sigh from him. Arthur was so much more disagreeable than he'd first seemed. Why did Arthur have to go and meet Francis of all people, the King of his most despised country and his own personal enemy since birth? Next thing he knew Arthur would want to see more of him, poor thing, he had no idea just how impossible that was. He took his time in getting back to their room, dressed in little more than his undershirt and woolen socks.

"Ooh Alfred~" Crooned a soft, melodic voice from across the room. He glanced up, shocked to see Arthur striding towards him. He'd seen what the Queen was supposed to wear for this most sacred of nights, and this wasn't it. Where there had once been modest white ribbon and chiffon was now black as ink, fingerless lace gloves wrapped around his hands and alabaster fingers working their way across his cheek. Something warm and soft brushed against his ear and he realized that Arthur was standing on tip-toe to reach him.

"So nice to finally have you join me, my King…" Came his soft whisper of a voice, his lips grazing the shell of his ear. Bright red bloomed across Alfred's cheeks.

"Wh-whoa, whoa, wait." He gently pushed Arthur away, stricken by the innocent look he feigned. "Hey, I-I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot earlier…" He wracked his brain for something he could apologize for, but Arthur's light, bubbly laughter snapped his thoughts back to the present. When had Arthur made him lay back against his bedcovers? When had he even walked across the room to be in bed? He couldn't keep his thoughts straight for more than a few seconds though. Arthur's movements were far more enrapturing. He crawled up to Alfred until he could kneel in front of him, his head resting against his knee.

"Oh, Alfred, don't be silly." Arthur murmured, running a hand down his thigh. "In fact, I think I'm very happy to be here with you now…" He gave Alfred a toothy grin that was met with wide eyes and a near gaping mouth. Alfred couldn't think of a thing to say to this new change in attitude. Arthur giggled again, letting his hand brush against him and earning a small squeak from the King that made him laugh dopily and slide his hand down further.

"A-Arthur…?" The demon raised his eyes, soaking in the flushed cheeks and shaky smile. Oh, he was glad this man was Arthur's husband. His fear was delicious. He didn't bother to respond in words, pecking his lips to Alfred's member. His tongue darted out when Alfred finally relaxed himself. Arthur giggled again and pressed his lips to the tip, licking at it like candy.

"Enjoying yourself?" He asked. Alfred moaned, giving a hurried nod. The demon took Alfred's hand and guided it to the back of his head, coaxing him into pulling his hair. In turn, he wrapped his lips around the head of his cock and sucked, gently at first. His hands worked their way around the shaft, stroking at a painfully slow speed. He heard Alfred suck in a breath and heard it catch in his throat as if begging for more speed, more friction, anything at all to make this better. He sat up a little, his cheek grazing against Alfred's erection as he whispered a single word;

"Beg." Alfred cracked an eye open to look down at him. The demon still sat in Arthur's body, teasing him with slightly lulled eyelids and a mischievous smirk. "Go on, I want you to tell me how much you want this, my King…" He might have actually waited for a response if Alfred didn't look so utterly at a loss for what to do.

"U-uh…" Alfred gulped. "P-please, um… please keep doing, erm, th-that thing that you're doing? P-putting your-"

"That's good enough love." Arthur chucked. "For goodness sakes, if I didn't know better I would think this was your first time or something." He didn't give Alfred a chance to respond. He was already climbing into Alfred's lap, his legs wrapping themselves around his waist. From seemingly nowhere he produced a little vial of oil, holding it up for Alfred to see.

"What's that…?" He asked. Arthur rolled his eyes and pushed Alfred back against the bed.

"You really don't know anything, do you?" He muttered. "You're clueless, like a virgin…" Alfred looked almost offended by that. Arthur cut his protests short by slipping a finger under the strap of his black panties and tossing them aside, followed by everything until he was left in only gloves and Alfred's face had returned to a lovely shade of crimson. "That's more like it." Arthur slid between Alfred's legs, making sure that their hips ran together in a way that earned Arthur a little squeal of surprise.

"Relax, Alfred, relax…" he whispered, ghosting his lips against Alfred's neck. "Isn't it nice?" He could feel the hesitation, the breath caught in his throat as Alfred slowly gave in to him. "We've got to consummate dear."

"I know." Arthur glanced up. The King didn't look upset so much as he did stuck. "B-but… I don't really know how, they never taught me any of this, th-this is all new to me…" For a moment there was silence, save for soft breathing between the two of them. Alfred's gaze began to shamefully drift away until Arthur tucked a finger under his chin and brought him back.

"It's alright love, I'll teach you…" A smirk tugged its way across Arthur's lips. "If I can help it, tonight's going to be the best night of your little life…"


	2. Kindly Whispered Words

Ch.2

By the time either Arthur or Alfred woke up, the castle staff had long since risen. The household was up the moment the sun rose and its light streamed through the high windows of the servants quarters, waking the some hundred and twenty men and women of the castle staff. Within the hour the chimneys were billowing out smoke, windows were partially clouded by soap and the rags of those stuck washing windows at this early hour. From the kitchens came the scent of baking bread and cooking meat, likely whatever was to be their breakfast. A few were down in the gardens pruning and watering or cleaning the fountain, and more still were down in the stables tending to the small fleet of horses the royal family possessed. It was a soft knock at the door that woke Arthur, though Alfred must have been awake before him seeing as he was the one who responded to whoever was at the door. Arthur remained in his comfortable spot, nestled under the heavy covers with a pocket of warmth around him, keeping the cool outside air of the bedroom from invading him at such an unholy hour. Even as he spoke back at who could only be a servant, one of Alfred's arms were still around him, holding him from whatever they had done the previous night. Odd really, he swore he hadn't had a better sleep in ages, he felt wonderful. When he turned to ask who had been at the door he felt something warm against his neck, and from the corner of his eye he saw the now familiar head of honey blonde hair moving slightly as Alfred kissed at him.

"I'm awake, I'm awake…" He muttered, reaching his arm back and giving Alfred a sort of backwards hug. Alfred looked up, granting Arthur one of his lovely smiles and pulling him closer. He buried his face in the crook of Arthur's neck, arms still wrapped around him and lips still resting against his ivory skin.

"G'morning…" Alfred whispered, cracking an eye open to meet Arthur's gaze. "Slept like a rock… last night was great, hm?" Arthur's small smile faltered at that. Well, he could only assume it was. His ass didn't hurt too much and he'd gotten to sleep nicely during whatever the demon and Alfred had done, so it was certainly been great for him in some respect.

"Yeah, really great." Arthur yawned and rubbed his eyes. "And I slept well too… but I suppose anything's better than trying to sleep in a carriage, hm?" This earned him a chuckle from Alfred and before he could open his mouth to speak again his lips were captured by Alfred's. Without thinking he returned the gesture, his arms moved so that he could turn to face him, only momentarily breaking their kiss. His lips were soft like silk and hardly chapped from the previous day's breeze, slightly soured by the taste of morning breath. The second was short lived, broken by the growling of someone's stomach. Arthur was fairly certain it was his own. Alfred only laughed, running a hand through his hair.

"Hungry?" he asked. "We're supposed to go downstairs for a meal… but you know, we do have time…" Arthur felt Alfred's hands slide down to the small of his back. He groaned and shut his eyes again, shifting so Alfred had to move them back.

"…Too early in the morning… I need something in my stomach before I can do any thinking…" He hoped that his reluctance to do anything, let alone his husband of one day, could be used as an excuse.

"Yeah, you're right… we should probably go down and eat soon though…" He watched Arthur for a response but little more came than a slow, absentminded nod. Arthur looked content enough to fall right back asleep. "Hey, come on, I know the bed is comfy and all but we've got to get up soon, I've already sent for your Queen's maid…" He shook Arthur gently, earning little more than another groan of reluctance.

"Alright, alright, just give me… two more minutes…".

"You'll have to be up by the time she gets here." Alfred gave Arthur a final peck on the cheek and sat up, doing what he could to preserve as much of the warmth as he could. "She'll help you clean up and dress. We'll be expected down there to make conversation with our guests and things."

"Okay, okay…" Guests, great, likely more people he would be expected to meet and remember. He knew that the demon had promised to take over his 'queenly' duties, but he would still have to know these people.

_And a damn good job I'll do at them too, likely even better than you would._

He scowled and smothered his face against the pillow, listening to the sounds of Alfred dressing himself. Why Alfred could do that and he couldn't was beyond him. He would have to tell his seamstress that he would not be wearing any more dresses, regardless of traditions or any such nonsense. He'd have nice suits and the like made for him, like what Alfred wore. Maybe even some sort of uniform, surely they couldn't expect him to wear a skirt if he was to be leading armies. He huffed a sigh, not even bothering himself with looking up until he heard the door open and close as Alfred left. He stared, a little surprised that he would actually just leave without him.

_Well of course, he's supposed to get there before you are anyway, don't look so surprised._

Arthur's eyes stayed transfixed on the door for another moment or so, slowly moving to sit up just as a small tap at the door sounded. He didn't get a chance to reply before it opened, revealing a young female servant he could only assume to be his Queen's maid.

/ \

It took Arthur nearly ten minutes of arguing with the young woman to get her to let him go out in something other than a lengthy skirt. The occupants of the dining hall look startled to see him in such scandalous attire, especially for a formal breakfast. He wore a royal blue commander's coat and white pants that clung to his legs, ending in black polished boots that clacked against the marble floor. He strode to Alfred's side, taking time to let the sounds of his footsteps sound around the now silent room. Inside, of course, he was giddy with the authoritative power that seemed to emanate from him and those looks he got fro all of their wretched guests. He took his seat by Alfred without waiting for the chair be pulled out for him, sitting down with a small grin. His eyes flicked at Alfred. The King looked quietly flustered, as if Arthur were making a scene.

"My King?" He said softly, folding his hands in his lap. Alfred seemed to snap back to reality, blinking at him before forcing his gaze back to the table. Most of the food had been brought out already, people had even started taking helpings of food due to how late Arthur was. He was careful to take small helpings of everything, especially the things Alfred didn't seem interested in, mostly to spite him. He didn't care what it was, it all looked delicious, and he was starving. Countless unnamed flavors passed over his tongue as he struggled to keep his composure. The others at the table seemed to take notice, talking throughout the meal and treating it as if it were just another part of the celebration. The only exception seemed to be Alfred and a little man on his opposite side, both occasionally shooting him a look of displeasure.

"You do realize this is supposed to be a formal meal, don't you?" Alfred whispered, eyebrows knitted in slight annoyance. Arthur looked up, chewing and swallowing whatever he'd just shoved into his mouth.

"I don't see what that's got to do with me, I'm trying to be polite." He replied.

"Perhaps by commoner standards. What happened to those other clothes they had for you?" Arthur glared up at him. So he knew about that…

"I didn't wear them." He hissed back. "It's degrading. I am not a woman, I will not wear women's clothing. You said it yourself, I should have been the one in that uniform yesterday." Alfred was mortified.

"Of course I said that, but I didn't mean the exact one I wore! It's traditional Arthur, we can't break the traditions that have served us for so many years."

"And what if we do?" Arthur's fingers clenched around his fork. "Traditions may be safe, but they're so silly. What's the point in any of that?"

"You're starting to sound like a Diamond, Arthur."

"Is that meant to insult me?" His teeth gritted together.

"Of course it is, how many good Diamonds have you met in your life?"

"I can think of one." At this Alfred stopped. Arthur waited for some retort but when none came his eyes flicked in Alfred's direction. It shocked him to see such a stricken look on Alfred's face. The man stiffened up and returned to his seat. A few people around the table had noticed, but nobody seemed too phased by their bickering. Some would probably pass it off as a 'rough patch.' After all, they were married; surely the two were in love by now.

\ /

Arthur was grateful to be allowed a little time in the gardens after breakfast to cool his nerves. The morning air was chill and crisp, the sky still dusky as the sun hadn't risen over the barricade of the castle walls yet. This was a different part of the garden than where the wedding had taken place, a wilder part, where trees grew taller and wildflowers had overtaken the planters. Even the proud fountain in its center spewed water at an odd angle in some parts, and little sprigs of weeds popped up just beneath it where the water leaked. The statue atop it was that of an armored knight on a horse, both the horse's single lifted leg and his sword lifted in the direction of the setting sun. Arthur took a seat at the fountain's rim turned away from it, the perfume of gardenias steadily cooling his temper. Honestly, Alfred was being so stubborn. He couldn't just go back to being the kind, sweet man that he'd been just the previous day during their wedding?

_Maybe he just has an unusual way of showing how he cares for you._

"Oh, gag…" he muttered aloud. There was no way any of what Alfred said was out of care for him. He was merely being pig-headed about the Diamonds, and likely about his hanging around with Francis. "Who does he think he is, leaving me alone all night and then getting mad when I indulge myself in dancing with another man? How was I supposed to know he and Alfred didn't get along?"

"You could have always asked." Arthur's eyes snapped open. On the bridge of his nose sat a sunny golden rose, ever so slightly mellowing the flowery scent of the garden. He reached to pick it up but from under its petals he noticed a pair of bright cerulean eyes that met his gaze, and a soft chuckle that came from their owner. Arthur took the flower and sat up, putting on a smile.

"Francis!" He beamed, patting a spot on the fountain beside him. Francis gladly took it. Today he looked different than he had, no longer dressed in stiff formal clothes that so contrasted his actions; a gold vest, white collared shirt, and dark trousers, comfortable but nothing less than fitting of a king. His long hair was tied into a small ponytail that rested just at the base of his neck, low enough to be tucked into his shirt. Not that anything would ever look badly on Francis, for goodness sake, the man was perfection.

"Beautiful morning, isn't it?" He said finally, easing back a ways. "I have to say that these gardens are the only reason I accepted the offer to stay overnight, they're the only beautiful thing here. Lily agrees with me." Francis let out a heavy sigh, gazing out at the flowers. Arthur's words caught in his throat at the mention of this 'Lily' person. He paused, eyes darting around for a few moments before he cleared his throat and sat up.

"Ah, who's Lily? I don't believe I've met her yet." He said stiffly, folding his hands in his lap. Francis glanced up at him, surprised.

"Oh? I could have sworn she was at the reception and ceremony yesterday, we all were, and she was walking out here with me before she wandered off, she should be around somewhere…" Again he sat up, giving the garden another sweep with his gaze before quickly giving up. "Lily is my Queen, the Queen of Diamonds. Poor thing is half my age, it was quite a struggle to keep them from making her marry me…" Arthur frowned. He could hardly imagine Francis having to consummate with anyone so young, Queen or not. "She'll find her way back if I know her… but let's talk of something more interesting, what about you then? Half the company saw that little spat between you and Alfred at the breakfast table, that was exciting, wasn't it?" Francis tried to laugh but cut himself short when he realized Arthur wasn't laughing along, but rather had taken to staring at the ground again. Francis tried to regain his serious, just about to ask when Arthur spoke again.

"He said I sounded like a Diamond…" Arthur grumbled, crossing his legs and flinging them out in front of him. "As if it were an insult. Can you believe him? He's so ridiculous, I swear, I… what's with that face?" Francis had covered his mouth in what looked like shock, eyes wide and stuck between slight disgust and laughter. Arthur caught himself staring but didn't stop, crossing his arms.

"What? What's so funny about that? I thought it was very rude, you seem like a wonderful man to me, and you're from Diamonds."

"I-it isn't that…" Francis choked out, still laughing a little. "But… ooh, Arthur, you are so naïve… you have no idea what he just called you, do you?" Arthur blinked, fumbling with his words for a moment.

"Of course I do! He's saying that I sounded like a Diamond, I assume he means like you." Again Francis only laughed, wrapping an arm around Arthur.

"Arthur, you see… Diamonds are known for being frivolous and quick to try new things. I don't think it's bad, but here everyone seems to think that if you so much as change your socks too early you've been cursed by the devil or some nonsense. That's just how Spadians are, and it seems they've always been that way, for as long as they've hated us they've done the opposite of what we do. But when Alfred or just about anyone here says that you're 'like a Diamond', he… he's calling you fast." Francis snickered quietly and watched the confusion on Arthur's face shift to surprise, then mild anger. He could easily still his laughter from there.

"H-how dare he!" Arthur crossed his arms, glowering at the castle. His cheeks were red, his knuckles were white as his hands balled into fists. "As if… I haven't even… only… I can't believe he would say such a thing!" He threw his hands up. Nothing had ever made him more mad, and growing up with four brothers and being the youngest of all of them there had been many, many times that he had been mad before.

"It's alright Arthur, I can't imagine he actually meant it like that…" Arthur's eyes turned on Francis, flashing with rage. "He probably meant the literal sense, that you were being selfish or something. I've known Alfred for years, he doesn't think of shallow insults like that."

"Well that doesn't change the fact that he said it…" Arthur glared down at his feet. "He's been nothing but rude this entire time, I thought he was supposed to be a King!" Francis sighed and offered Arthur a smile, wrapping an arm around Arthur's shoulders.

"You two would be wise to learn to get along. I won't be around forever you know." He looked up only to be met with worry and surprise, on Arthur surprisingly. "What? I am a guest in the home of my enemy, I can't stay here forever Arthur, as much as I would like to for your sake." Francis straightened up, taking Arthur's hand in his own. "I could always take you back with me."

"I-I couldn't." Arthur almost drew his hand away again. "Not to Diamonds… I'm sorry, but I just couldn't go to Diamonds Francis." The foreign King looked taken aback. Arthur sat up with him and loosened his grip on his hand, though he didn't let go. "I've grown up here my whole life… I mean, you're wonderful, and I'm sure your people are wonderful. I don't think being from Diamonds is bad, in fact I think your people might be even more pleasant than ours, but… I was born and raised here. No matter how little I know, I have to be loyal to Spades… don't I?" His fingers tightened their grip on Francis's hand again. Slowly his peridot eyes traveled up Francis's waist, shoulders, chin, the bridge of his nose, and finally landed on his eyes. They smiled along with his lips, brimming with sympathy and perhaps pity. With a sigh he stood, bending to press his lips to Arthur's knuckles.

"I don't know how that fool Alfred can call you a Diamond…" He murmured "when you are so clearly a good Spadesman." Gently he set Arthur's hand back in his lap, and the sunset rose on top of it. With that, he started away, leaving Arthur to stare after him. His blonde bob of hair and shining black boots slowly disappeared inside the far-off palace door. For a while it seemed that the silence of the gardens had settled back in, the trickle of water and soft whisper of wind gracing Arthur's ears again.

"…What did he mean, a good Spadesman?" He murmured, holding the rose in his hands.

_It means you're blindly loyal and atrociously stubborn._

If he could have, Arthur would have punched that demon.


	3. Good Intentions

Ch.3

Arthur found himself spending the rest of the early morning in the gardens, laying on the fountain and staring up at the clouds. It was shaping up to be a lovely day, the sort they never had when he'd lived in Two; it was warm but not hot, breezy but not windy, bright but not blinding. Even the clouds were somewhat sparse in the sky, and what clouds were there were thin and wispy, like bits of cotton. Occasionally he would roll onto his stomach and let the cool stone grace his cheek, the moss caressing his skin lovingly and the soft gurgle of water occasionally daring to spray a few shy droplets onto his neck or hand. He could have fallen asleep if it weren't for the dozens of thoughts buzzing around in his head- oh, and the demon, he was up there too. Aside from him he wondered how much he would actually have to do, what was expected of him, and all those other political things he had missed out on living in the most ill-informed part of the country. He knew they didn't like Diamonds, that much was apparent, but he knew next to nothing of Hearts or Clubs. They had met a man from Hearts one day who seemed to be on the run, but not a one of them could tell what the man was saying, so he left. They thought he was either dead or arrested by the end of the day.

His attention was drawn by the soft clicking of thick wooden heels on the cobbles. He cracked an eye open. If he could have told what this person was my merely looking at them then perhaps he could have thought of something to say. They were like nothing he'd ever seen before. The person was rather small in every area he could see, short and thin with tiny feet. The only thing long about them was their Hair; so long it was that they had tied it in a loose, flowing braid that sat on their shoulder. Of course they wore a beautiful blue Spadian cloak, so he could only gather that this was an important person, but that was about all he could gather. He cleared his throat and sat up.

"…can I help you?" he asked. The little stranger frowned at him and nodded.

"I should think you can." They crossed their arms. Sadly, their voice didn't portray much in helping him pick a pronoun, but the slight accent to his words said that he probably wasn't from Spades. Hearts perhaps? The person did have silky black Hair and almond eyes, in both color and shape. "Unless I'm mistaken, his majesty King Alfred told me I could find you out here, Queen Arthur?" Arthur frowned. Well, this was clearly a man of some status. He was oddly familiar.

"Yes, that's me… what does Alfred want me to do then?" He asked, sitting up and staring at them.

"He wants me to show you around… excuse me, my name is Yao Wang." They gave Arthur a low bow, the braid almost falling from their shoulder. "Legal guardian of his majesty, and Jack of Spades." It was only the last part that caught Arthur's attention.

"I remember now… you must have been at breakfast, right? Miss… er, mister… um…" He struggled with pronunciation. Yao glared up at him, straightening up slowly and waiting for Arthur to pick a word.

"It is _mister_, if it's really so difficult for you to see." He grumbled, folding his arms over his chest. Arthur blinked, looking the man over with a slight pinkish tinge to his cheeks.

_Good gracious Arthur, I didn't think that even you were that thick…_

He felt some part of him snap inside but he pushed it away. "R-right, uh, mister Yao…"

"Just Yao is alright."

"Y-Yao…" Arthur forced himself to laugh. For God's sake, he was terrible. He could feel the Jack's disapproving eyeballs fixed on him, his gaze held a sort of weight to it that made him wish he had something to cover his face with.

"Shall we go inside then, your highness?" Yao was still staring at him, offering a gloved hand from underneath his royal blue cloak. Without hesitation Arthur took it, stealing his last few glances around the grand garden before letting himself be led away from it.

"I don't suppose I'll be allowed out there again anytime soon?" he asked.

"I wouldn't bet on it." Muttered Yao. "I've been here for ages, and I barely have more than a few moment's peace… consider yourself lucky that you haven't got much experience yet." Arthur frowned and glared at his feet. He would find some way to get outside. They couldn't make him work forever, could they? Yao didn't look _that_ stressed.

_Looks can be deceiving dear…_

He rolled his eyes. Yao noticed and gave him a strange look, and he tried to play it off like nothing. He had to figure out some way of communicating to the demon in his head that didn't involve actually speaking out loud.

/ \

To Arthur, the inside of the palace was almost equally lovely to the outside. Every wall was perfectly papered or painted in blue, white, and gold. A rare splash of color otherwise came in the form of flora, usually little flowery plants placed on tables or in corners. Every room was enormous and extravagant. The library had a roof as high as the ballroom, with shelves that nearly touched the ceiling, each so full of books that piles of them spilled onto the floor; there were various reception rooms in which furniture was carefully arranged, with pretty little whatnots arranged on top of marble overmantles and pretty paintings of past kings and queens hung with proud grins on their faces; a number of different studies, all complete with nice wood desks and bookshelves and comfortable chairs- save for one he didn't get to see, Yao said that Alfred had just about claimed it as his own- and then he was finally brought to see the entirety of the castle staff. Yao had been telling him the whole time that they had a rather large number of people employed there- in fact, he said that there were probably more staff members employed at the palace than there were people in whatever dingy village Arthur had grown up in. This wasn't quite true; there were nowhere near that many people here, probably a little over a hundred. It was the sheer quantity of different jobs that baffled him. There was the Queen's maid, who Arthur had already met, as well as a valet for the King and another for the Jack. Next came the butler and his footmen, all of whom gave him bows that grew deeper as the line of them went on until the little tea boys were in danger of smacking their foreheads against their feet, as well as the head housekeeper and her numerous maids and the few nurses. Arthur was expected to shake most of their hands, until they came down to the chefs and stable workers and gardeners who, while friendly enough, looked like they had jus been plucked from their work to come meet the new Queen. Honestly, Arthur was glad he didn't have to shake all of those hands, his own was getting sweaty, and if just one of these people were sick then he was spreading illness to all of them. From what he was seeing, they needed every one of these people. Most of them were already slipping away from the little meeting to return to their work.

"I don't know, I thought of it as a sign of dedication." Arthur frowned, watching Yao run after a younger footman as the others stood by snickering. Within a few minutes he had shooed away the others, giving the runaway a short scolding before leading Arthur away from them.

"You'll have to forgive me for the state of the service at the present time… things used to be so much better than this…"

"Oh, I don't know." Arthur put on a small grin. "It seems like this place runs pretty well to me, just looking from what I've seen." Yao quirked an eyebrow at him. "We didn't exactly have servants in my house, though I think my mother felt like one sometimes… but they all do what you say, and they all seem friendly enough." He turned to Yao again and, as he had thought he might, he received little more than a look of surprise, and slight disappointment.

"They can run much better than this." Yao muttered stiffly. "I've seen them do it. When this place gets ready for a celebration, they can work at triple speed to ready this place. Never mind the servants anyway, you've got plenty of this place left to see."

As it turned out, 'plenty' was enough to fill another hour or so of traipsing around the place and being shown every room. There were grand bedrooms, for the most important guests, and there were smaller guest rooms, and even smaller servant's rooms- which interestingly had the most beds in them, leading Arthur to wonder if their servants were packed in like sardines and for Yao to ignore him. Of course there were kitchens, but Yao didn't lead him past the first one that seemed to be used for preparing dishes. What were the others for? Yao refused to tell. Arthur's favorite rooms, however, were the ones there seemed to be only one of: there was only one room for painting, which had a lovely view of the gardens and an easel by the window; there was a music room, complete with a grand ivory piano with a chandelier gently swaying above it; finally was the room that truly held Arthur's attention for the longest- the library. In fact, he spend almost a solid minute just gaping at the sheer number of books. Was it even possible for one place to hold so many? He had heard of libraries before, and he had considered the small collection of children's books at the church to be a library before, but now that dinky shelf seemed to pale in comparison. Dozens of shelves filled the room up to the ceiling, each loaded with books to the point of having some stacked into small mountains at the base of each one. There was a lovely fireplace that warmed the room to a cozy heat in the winter, spring, and autumn, and warmed it slightly less during the summertime, and around it stood beautiful reading chairs, the sort one could curl up on and be comfortable in no matter what position they decided on. Arthur tested this himself.

"Come on your highness, there are other rooms you should see." Yao grabbed him by the arm, leading him towards the door.

"No, wait!" Arthur's eyes darted between him and the heaps of books, beckoning him back to the comfort of the hearth and the welcoming arms of any number of fantastical worlds. "C-can't I just stay a little longer? A few minutes, maybe an hour or two?"

"I'm sorry your highness," Yao rolled his eyes, not even the littlest bit sorry "but there are other rooms that we need to get to. Alfred is waiting for us you know. When you get a free moment, you're more than welcome to come hide yourself away in these books, but the royal pain doesn't like to be kept waiting." With great reluctance Arthur tore himself away, leaving the books behind.

"I'm going to make myself a spare moment…" He muttered. "Whether I've got one or not, I'm going back to that library later…"

"Of course you are." Yao muttered. "Come on then, we've a dozen other rooms to see."

\ /

The royal pain himself was waiting in a small circular room in a high tower. It had a high, domed ceiling, and a balconied window with a view out over the city. Every object in the room had a touch of blue in it, whether it be cerulean, navy, or even indigo. Arthur noted this immediately, as the few things in the room that weren't blue were gold or ivory-colored, or with a touch of green in the few plants the cold weather could sustain. A grand marble fireplace squat like an animal in the corner, warming the room with its steady glow. Alfred was sitting back on an ornate sofa, lazily sipping at a cup of coffee so loaded with sugar it could arguably be called dessert. Several other men stood or sat in the room, strange men to Arthur. They might have been at the breakfast table that morning, but that meant little seeing as it told him nothing about a single one of them other than that they were either wealthy or very important. Upon closer examination he vaguely recognized one, deciding that the spindly little man must have been from his homeland of Two. Alfred noticed Arthur as soon as he and Yao stepped into the room, and mustered up a small smile to greet them with.

"Arthur." He sat up, setting his cup down on its saucer. If nothing else, he seemed to have calmed down from earlier, so Arthur had a feeling he wasn't in trouble. Not really at least. "For a minute there I thought you weren't going to come… you must have taken your time with the tour." Yao scowled at him. Arthur's eyes flitted around at the faces of the men, and he took a seat closest to the hearth to warm his hands. The soft crackling was unnerving, the quiet growl of a hungry beast searching for its next meal. A cup of hot tea was set before Arthur and he took it, not even looking at the person who handed it for long enough to mutter a 'thank-you'. His eyes were fixed on the fire. It had been a while since he had felt so warm, but he got the feeling that the fire was trying to roast him. One of the shorter servants stepped forward to poke at the fire. In turn he earned a satisfying crackle from the burning log, though it was charred to the point of being black. Arthur was engrossed in watching the man leave the fire, take a fresh log, and toss it in. The moment the log hit the fire, the soft crackling turned into a long, deafening shriek. Arthur's eyes darted to the fireplace. He saw his brother, his beloved little brother, lying in the middle of the flames with his arms around his head. His clothes were charred to his skin so badly in places that it was hard to distinguish cloth from flesh. He screamed Arthur's name, tears running down his soot-streaked cheeks. Arthur was snapped from his vision by a loud crash and something hot in his lap- fire. More fire. He screamed and swatted with his hands at it, trying to put out the flames in his lap until Alfred could grab his arms. He fought desperately until a voice could snap him out of it.

"Arthur? Arthur!" It shouted. Arthur's peridot eyes fixed on him, wide with terror. "Hey, are you alright? What's the matter?" Arthur blinked, his gaze slowly lowering to his lap and the floor beyond it. The teacup he had been holding lay shattered in his lap, with hot tea splashed onto his legs. He shot a glance to the fireplace just to confirm that it was just a gnarled log and not his brother. Finally, he came to look up at the people across the table. He could feel the slow rise and fall of his chest and the deafening thump of blood in his ears as his eyes slowly scanned the room. Every single person was staring at him, even the servant who had been tending the fire. Alfred was still holding him by the wrist in the hopes of keeping him from hurting anyone. His eyes held a mix of shock and concern, perhaps even a touch of fear. He lowered Arthur's hands back to his lap before remembering what had happened, and that Arthur's was soaked to the skin in tea.

"…someone fetch him a towel." He muttered. Even after one of the servants scurried off to get one Alfred held Arthur's hand, his thumb running over his knuckles. "I… I suppose the stress must be getting to you already." Arthur didn't look up to see the way Alfred stole a glance his way, hoping that he could coax a response out of him. Arthur said nothing. "Well… I'm sure the rest of you know that we've got serious business to attend to." Something soft dropped into Arthur's lap and he jumped, though he quickly realized that it was just his towel. He spread it across his lap with his free hand, keeping his gaze down on his feet. He knew that Alfred was talking, and he knew that he probably should have been listening, but he was more worried about what it was he'd just seen. That had been his brother a moment ago, with charred flesh and hands that reached out as if for his help, and not he was nothing more than a hunk of pine wood. He realized then that he didn't even know where his youngest brother was in the first place.

_What do you mean, don't you know?_

Arthur paused, listening to the taunting voice in his head. Beyond the usual sing-song tone, there was a touch of genuine surprise.

_Don't you remember what happened to your brothers, your home… your life?_

Arthur bit his lip. That was right, he'd been brought from a village in the region of Two, he had lived in a hovel with his sizeable family. "Where are they…?"

"Well, where do you think they are?" Arthur was jolted from his thoughts by the response. It hadn't been the voice of the demon, nor even that of Alfred. He didn't know this voice. I seemed to have come from a large and rather pompous looking man who sat in an armchair a little ways away, staring at Arthur in mild annoyance. "Haven't you been listening at all, you stupid child?"

"Leave him alone." Arthur felt himself being tugged to the side, as well as a rather familiar arm wrapping itself around him. "Give him a break, he's clearly already stressed enough. I don't blame him for being lost in his thoughts." Arthur stole a glance back, giving Alfred a brief but grateful smile, and sat up again. Alfred moved a little closer to him anyway. "We've been discussing a new alliance with the Clubs. I assume I don't have to remind you why this is a rather serious issue?" He smiled anyway, waiting for Arthur to smile and nod in response. He didn't. Slowly Alfred's own grin faded away. "…surely you know of the wars? The bloody battles, the famine, the sickness…? The thousands of deaths at the hands of the former King?" Alfred looked at a loss for what more to say. Arthur merely shook his head.

"Oh for God's sake, don't they teach you fools anything in Two?" The pompous man scoffed, sitting up in his seat and staring at Arthur as if he were a child. Arthur scowled at him, sitting a little straighter.

"They don't, actually." He snapped back. "We haven't got schools in Two. Most of us have more important things to do than spent our time bent over an arithmetic book all day, like earn a living." Arthur looked about ready to go off on the man before Alfred pulled him back a bit, mumbling something along the lines of "pick your battles" and ghosting a kiss against his ear. Arthur fell quiet, still giving the pompous man a glare as icy as the waters of his homeland. Alfred gave his hand a somewhat comforting pat, trying to regain Arthur's attention.

"Well, since you should be able to keep up with the conversation…" Alfred started. "We've had some… less than desirable run-ins with the Clubs in the past, most of them involving massive amounts of death… but the old King passed away a while ago, and his son was crowned just last month. One of the first things he's been trying to do is form an alliance between our lands, but-"

"But it's absolute madness!" The pompous man was red in the face, his sausage fingers curled around the ends of his armrests. "The people of Clubs are nothing but a bunch of psychopaths, and trying to befriend them can only result in trouble!"

"Not necessarily." Another man stood up, though he was so small that sitting down may have added to his height off the ground. "If it is the new King himself who proposed the arrangement, then he may be trying to make up for it. The Clubs are wise people…"

"Wise people without the money to fund their 'great' ideas." A third man stood, with a funny upturned nose and blond Hair so perfect it looked as if it had been sculpted into its shape. "The only reason Clubs stopped attacking us is because it ran out of men to throw our way. I'm almost certain that this 'alliance' is their way of trying to suck us dry. Besides, we all know their stance on _the arts_." With little more than a crackle from the fire, the room silenced. Arthur glanced around, taking in the sudden tension that had settled in and deciding not to ask. Even he knew better than to bring up those darkest of arts that were so terrible to even speak of. For a little while not even Alfred would speak, but it took him only a moment to overcome the silence.

"I am of the mind that if it is the King himself that can acknowledge the need for an alliance between us, then we can at least have a meeting arranged to talk to them about it." Immediately the three men exploded at him, shouting their opinions at the King. Arthur retreat to the far end of the sofa, his eyes flitting anywhere but the intruders to his already constricted personal space. Yao stood to the side, pinching the bridge of his nose and slowly shaking his head in disgust. The only person who appeared to be unfazed by the outburst was the thin man from Two. He was still sitting quietly and sipping at something from a china cup, and when he caught Arthur's gaze he gave him a sympathetic smile and rolled his eyes at the other's behavior. Arthur decided that he liked this man.

"Surely you cannot agree with this as well?" One of the man reached to grab Arthur by the arm but Alfred slapped his hand away. It was the hand of the incredulous, pompous man, who looked rather disturbed to have been slapped by the King. Arthur glared at him, sitting stiff and straight.

"I think it's a fine idea." Arthur hissed. "Just dandy. If they want to make peace, I say we give them the benefit of the doubt. Why not? At least someone can acknowledge when they've made a mistake." The large man stepped back, sputtering and fumbling with his words for a counter argument until someone could get him back to his seat. Arthur huffed a little sigh and looked up at Alfred, glad that he could at least get his approval. Surely the approval of the King was more important than the approval of some portly politician. The thin man from Two seemed to be in agreement with him, for he stood and cleared his throat with his cup still in his hand.

"I see no reason to condemn the poor boy for something his father did…" He muttered. His voice was soft and gravely, and thickly laden with an accent Arthur knew by heart. "Like his majesty said, he's a smart enough boy if he knows his father made a mistake, and here he is trying to make it up to us. I say we let him."

"That's exactly what you would say, Manus." Snapped the blond man, still standing with arms crossed over his chest. "Going and saying something just to appease the King and Queen, like the little rat of a man you are!"

"Don't be ridiculous, I wouldn't change my tune so quickly just to please them. Who do you think I am, you?" He took another long sip from his cup before settling into his plushy armchair. "And besides, I am of the mind that this alliance would benefit us all. You said it yourself, Clubs is full of brilliant minds without the funds or place to use their genius, and with so many young people these days going into the fine arts or the military, the schools are just begging for more students… Spadian or otherwise." The blond man looked enraged, even his Hair puffed angrily like the body of an angry swan. He was about ready to blow up at Manus when Alfred stood, setting down his cup and saucer with a clatter loud enough to draw his attention back to him.

"As usual, this meeting has gotten us nowhere." He muttered. "Half of the representatives didn't even show up this month, I don't know why we even bother with these meetings anymore… but I've come to a decision. I'll be inviting the King of Clubs over soon for negotiation, and that is the end of the discussion." Alfred stood and started towards the door. The pompous and blond men looked mortified with the outcome of the meeting, practically climbing over each other to go after Alfred and convince him of the evils of giving their enemy a chance to negotiate. The short man followed after them, squealing his own opinions, and with only a word back to Arthur about where to go next Yao had disappeared as well, leaving Arthur alone. Or rather, he thought he was alone, until Manus chuckled and startled Arthur. He gave the Queen a warm smile.

"Ah, just listen to them go… imbeciles, every one of them." He sighed and swirled around the contents of his cup. "Not that anything they do will affect me, the people of Two don't have much in the first place, so they need not be worried about being sucked dry… you and I know all about that." Any hint of a smile Arthur had given disappeared.

"You don't look so poor yourself…" He muttered, gesturing to Manus's clean clothes.

"Oh, I'm not. This is all paid for by the crown though. Back in Two I live in a house in the closest thing we've got to a city… you've probably seen it." Almost everyone in Two went there at some point, usually to sell their wares or buy things that had been brought from other regions. Arthur nodded, having only been there once with his father on the night before Christmas to buy eggs. "I'm hardly a politician at all really… I used to be a carpenter. A highly charismatic carpenter, who tends to the people better than any leech that came before him."

"Indeed! You've hardly done anything!"

"And have you heard anyone complain about that?" Manus looked up from his cup. "I've lowered the taxes, that's what I've done, and I've left the people alone." Arthur stared, wide-eyed as he realized he couldn't remember a time where the man called Manus hadn't been representing them. He had only heard horror stories of people's homes being taken out from under them at the hands of some greedy politician, and then they stopped a few years after his own birth.

"…yes, well… I'm going to the library." Arthur stood, checking his lap to see that the tea had dried for the most part and starting towards the door. Manus looked up at him.

"Enjoy it." He called after him. "It's full of excellent books… I would recommend a few history books for you though, your highness, it seems you could use a little studying."

Arthur said nothing more to the man once he had left the room, staring down at his feet as he walked.

_What, you don't enjoy that man's company? You two have so much in common, you're both dense, you're both from the slums, and you both drink tea. Is that not enough for human bonding?_

"Oh hush." Arthur grumbled. "I was just sick of staying in that little room now I know there's a big library with my name on it downstairs…"

_Ah, of course. I keep forgetting how terribly simple you humans are… or perhaps I'm thinking of how you over-complicate things. It's alright to admit you just don't like someone you know._

"I know it is." Arthur scowled at the carpet, his hands balled into fists. "I just need time alone… like he said; I've got studying to do."

_Author's Note: Sorry if this chapter was a little weird! ;w; I intended for Yao to be a different character at first, I thought I had fixed that… sorry guys!_


	4. Genealogy

Ch. 4

By the time Arthur found his way to the library, it was almost noon. The palace was teeming with life and activity from both the guests giving their goodbyes and leaving calling cards and the servants trying to clean up after them as they went. Horses and buggies were being brought out by the dozen, with stable boys frantically searching around for their owners before they caused trouble. The poor maids were left to clean up the remains of the makeup that the ladies had caked on before leaving, though on occasion one would be lucky enough to find a singular earring or a little ruby ring or something left behind, the sort of trinket that wouldn't be missed, the sort that could buy a large family a small feast in some places.

Of course, Arthur saw none of this. His attention was fixed on the singular task of getting back to the library. When he did stop, it was to ask a maid or butler for directions. The halls of the palace were like a labyrinth to those unfamiliar with it. The various employees seemed to have little trouble at all telling him where to turn right, turn left, which stairs to go down, once he made his way there he was sure he could have gotten directions to which shelf held the history books if he weren't stunned silent by the massive scale of the library. Unlike before, he had all the time in the world to stare on in awe. The shelves really did reach to the ceiling, and every one of them was packed with books until they spilled into heaps on the floor. Books were stacked onto tables, around chairs, behind the desk of the librarian, in corners, there were even a few placed near the fireplace. For what felt like hours he was content to let his gaze wander the shelves, flitting from spine to spine and barely taking in what each one said before moving on to the next, at least until the voice in his head jarred him out of his thoughts.

_My word, how you like to stand and gawk like an imbecile!_

Arthur blinked a few times before he could clear his thoughts, a scowl tugging its way across his lips. "I rather like books…" he muttered, starting his way through the shelves. They were even more impressive up close, when he could really see how many there were. There must have been hundreds, thousands, maybe even _millions_-

_For God's sake, you're doing it again! Did you come here to read, or just to bulge your eyes out of your skull?_

"You know, I didn't ask for your input!" He growled, trekking further into the library. "Where I come from, books are rare and precious. Most of the books we had at home I wasn't allowed to read…"

_Why is that dear?_

For once, Arthur had nothing to say. He simply went on until he found what looked like a few books on Spadian history and started picking through them. There was an incredible range of books, ranging from big books that were essentially extended timelines of recorded history, to tiny things that were opinion-laced rags that Arthur wouldn't touch. He was sure that there had to be a few gems among them though, somewhere, and he picked out what he hoped were three of them.

_It's terribly rude to ignore people when they speak to you, you know…_

"Hush." He snapped, glaring at seemingly nothing. "I'm looking for something specific, other than boring old history…" He made his way back to an armchair by the fireplace.

_Hold on a moment Arthur._

Arthur paused, glancing around to make sure no-one was watching before he spoke. "What?"

_Don't sit by the fire… there's a mirror at the far end of the library, it's covered by a tarp. Go pull the tarp off, go sit over there._

"What?" Arthur's nose crinkled. "Why would I do that? It's cold, I want to sit by the fire."

_Just do it, trust me, it will be fine._

Arthur rolled his eyes. He did warm himself thoroughly before leaving the fireside. Sure enough, far in the back of the library where the lanterns flickered and the drapes were shut, something sat under an old tarp. He tugged it away and stared back into his own eyes. "Yes, this is certainly a mirror…" He grumbled. A fine one it was as well. It was a body-length mirror a bit larger than he was, with an ornate brass frame. When he reached to press his hand against it, the frame was still warm to the touch. His eyes were fixed on their own reflections until something waved in front of them. He glanced up and there, eased into an armchair a ways behind him, sat the demon. Arthur spun around only to find the chair empty, though it was still occupied in the mirror. "Wh-what is this? What did you do?"

_"It's a brass mirror, I can show myself in those. I'm really here, you just can't see me… don't think too hard on that darling, wouldn't want you to strain yourself. You've got an awful lot of studying to do after all…"_

Arthur took his time looking back and forth between the mirror and the armchairs behind him. They did appear to be empty, but every time he looked back into the mirror the demon was still sitting there, his legs draped over one arm of the chair and his neon eyes fixed on Arthur with a look of boredom.

"_Will you just come and sit? I want to see some of those books you picked out already…"_

"…fine." Arthur kept his eyes on the mirror, taking a seat in the chair beside the demon. The cushions were plushy and soft like nothing he had ever felt before. "But… are you always here like this, or do you just…?"

"_You ask far too many questions. That will get you into trouble someday… come on then, let's have a look at those books, where did you put them?"_

The demon's reflection glanced around the floor before he picked up one of the books, leaving the others to slide around Arthur's feet. He took the first one and let the demon look over the others.

"_What's this then… a history of Spades, boring, and then you've got a book on what, heredity? And then there's… a book on magical lineage?"_

In the mirror Arthur could see a devious yet curious look on the monster's face. Arthur slumped back into his chair.

"Just things I find interesting…" he muttered. "Nothing you need to know about, I assure you."

"_Don't be like that! As long as I'm up here, your business is my business. If you don't want to tell me I'll just go digging through your memories later, and I can't guarantee I won't make a mess."_

Arthur scowled, flipping open the book in his lap. Its pages were printed with innumerable family trees, some made up in tiny print just to fit in entire lineages up to whenever the book was published. One such family included that of Alfred, showing his mother and father- the previous King and Queen- as well as his mother's parents, King and Queen before them, and his mother's grandfather as King before that…

"_My, it looks as if that boy you're married to has quite a bit of family history here, hm?"_

"It would appear so…" Arthur muttered, flipping past those pages. "But I'm not interested in him, I want to find my family." He glanced at the seemingly empty armchair beside him. "M-my mother once said that her mother and father had each lived here in Ten. I just wanted to see if I could find them in here." The demon's laughter rang in his ears.

"_Why would anyone move from glorious Ten to dinky, disgusting little Two? That's quite the costly step down, and I for one can't imagine ever wanting to leave this place."_

Arthur rolled his eyes and went on searching. They had only just passed Alfred's lineage, so he couldn't imagine that his would be far behind if it was there. "…I found it. Page eighty-seven, Kirkland." He held the book towards the opposite armchair. Whether it was a trick of light or not he wasn't sure, but the demon's reflection looked startled, almost stunned.

_"…shows what I know about humans."_

Arthur scoffed, putting on a proud smirk. "I'll have you know that my father's family was quite high-up before he decided to leave Ten. Look, there he is right-" Arthur cut himself short, staring at the place where his father's name was written. Unlike the others there was no little portrait, only a name beneath an empty little frame. It was connected to his mother's frame, though her last name had been scratched out. It showed only two of the six Kirkland boys, Arthur's two elder brothers. They went without names, only listed at boys. Then again he wouldn't have been able to tell if any of them had at one point been sketched, for all of their frames were completely burned off. He could still see black on the edges of the paper, and the beginnings of a line where his own name might have once meant to be connected. He could practically feel the demon on his shoulder, peering down at the book and taking everything in.

"_So what's that then, you've got a couple of brothers? They both look older though, what happened to that one you were hallucinating about?"_

Arthur felt some part of him twitch internally at that little remark, but he tried not to snap back. "He probably wasn't born when this book was published. Nor were the twins by the looks of it…"

"_Twins? For hell's sake, how big is your family?"_

"There's six of us kids, all boys, and then mum and dad." Arthur scowled and shut the book, letting it slide to the ground. "Lots of people in Two have big families, that's just how it is. I come from a whaling family, so my father needs a lot of extra hands to help out on the ship…"

"_A rather interesting way of acquiring extra labor…"_

Arthur scowled. "It's just how we did things. Nobody in Two can afford to hire help, we can barely even afford to buy food. I-I'm positive that they're better off with one less mouth to feed…" What was his mother doing right now? Where was his father? How did his brothers feel about all of this? "It's funny, I-I can barely even remember leaving now… it's only been a few weeks, but I can't even remember how they reacted…"

"_Is that so? You humans are such odd little creatures, aren't you?"_

Arthur rolled his eyes, setting the book down and snatching another from the demon's invisible hands. "No more so than you beasts of hell…" he grumbled. "We will say no more of it. I want to read up on this Spadian history like that Manus character said I should…"

"_Why to you trust that man anyway? Isn't he just another politician to you?"_

"Maybe, but he's from Two. My father says he's a fine man, and we share a stance on Clubs, so… I suppose I can take his word." Arthur opened up the book. Before him lay a wide index of topics, ranging from what he could only imagine was the start of most history books- a general 'start of the world' spiel- to the little detailed things. Other chapters featured significant figures in history, significant Kings and Queens, great wars, trade, and the longest chapter; traditions.

"_Goodness what a lot of words, how do you know where to start?"_

"…I don't." Arthur stared at the index page. To him, it was little more than a jumble of words, places, and events that he had never heard of before. There were pages of each generation or royalty, each King with his Queen and Jack, and some other column that was always left empty but had the label scratched out on every page. Probably nothing important anyway. For a while he resigned to simply flipping through the pages, reading up on whatever he could. He could feel the weight of the demon on his shoulder and while he would occasionally shoot a glare in his general direction, he knew that he was still there. "Do you mind?"

"_Not at all. Go on, keep reading, this book is turning out to be quite the comedy. I like this chapter."_

"This is the chapter about that big war Alfred was talking about!"

"_Well I think it's hilarious, just look at those uniforms! They might as well paint targets on their backs!"_

"It's not funny! People died in this war, lots of people! Millions of people! I didn't even know there were that many people in the world until now! It's not something that should be laughed about!" Arthur flipped through those pages just to spite the demon. If he weren't so bent on learning all of this damned history he might have just shut the book all together.

"_Oh what, now you're going to skip by that bit? Fine, I'll leave you alone. Have fun with your chapter on witch trials, mister Queen of the world…"_

"Witch trials?" Arthur looked back to the book, letting the demon do what he would elsewhere. Sure enough, he had landed on a rather small chapter about the strong rejection of magic so common throughout Spades. It features sketches of accused witches with their hair cut short, teeth pulled from their bloodied gums, and a photograph featuring a person hanging on a post over a climbing fire. The text skimmed over everything from the names of some 'witches', to their supposed crimes, to other things that Arthur couldn't even bring himself to describe. Without a word he shut the book and set it down, resting his head in his hands. By the time the demon noticed, Arthur's face had taken on a color paler than the pages of the old books at his feet. He set down the dusty recipe book in his hands and retook his seat by Arthur.

"_What's the matter human? You look a bit… peaky."_

Arthur didn't speak. His eyes were fixed down on his boots and the cracks in the old wooden floor. His fingertips dug at his scalp. Even the icy touch of the demon's fingers couldn't snap him from his thoughts immediately.

"_Come on, out with it. What's gone and gotten to you like this?"_

The creature picked up the dusty old book, flicking through its pages. Wars, winters, witchcraft, wailwoads, he couldn't see anything that would have upset anyone. Those things certainly didn't upset him at least. Without warning Arthur stood up, kneeling to scoop the other books up in his hands. The demon watched him, placing the history book on top of his little stack.

"_What, you aren't even going to look at that last one? I was so interested to learn about the magical heredity of humans…"_

"I don't want to talk about it." Arthur murmured, setting the books at the bottom of one of the great heaps. "Not right now, and not to you. And no, I will not be looking at that book right now, I can't stand to. Magic is a touchy subject in my family…"

"_You and the whole country by the looks of it."_

"I told you, I don't want to talk about it."

"_Not even to me? Why, what do you know about magic?"_

"Please just leave me alone."

"_You're acting awfully strange you know, if you aren't careful people are going to get the wrong idea…"_

"I said leave me ALONE!" he screamed, fingers clenched in his hair. Of course there was no-one to shout at, and it looked even more like no-one as the demon suddenly fell silent. From far across the library a young lady looked up from her place high atop a shelf ladder where she was putting away books, staring at him. He stood stalk still, staring right back until the remembered her place and went back to her work. Arthur beat a hasty retreat from the library, his head low and his eyes on the ground. He wanted nothing more than to just curl up in bed with Alfred again, even without Alfred…

_Perhaps with Francis then?_

He stopped in the middle of the hall. Well, good to know that he still had the damn demon in his head. "…perhaps." He grumbled. Francis was awfully kind… no, what was he thinking? He would probably get in trouble for even thinking of such things, and whatever would Francis think?

_I am almost positive he would reward these sorts of thoughts with exactly what you want him to…_

Arthur scowled, speeding up a little in the hopes that nobody would see the pinkish color spreading across his cheeks. He puffed a little sigh, gradually loosening his grip on his hair. "I need something to calm my nerves… I need some tea…"

_Or perhaps some brandy? Alcohol does do wonders for those pesky senses you know._

"Yes…" A little loss of sense did sound tempting, something to make the world melt away and usher him into a good, long nap. His feet seemed to carry him back to his room on their own. Odd, it seemed like time had either slowed or sped up while he was reading. How long ago was noon, and that meeting with Alfred and the other strange men? On that note, where was Alfred? Where had all of those men gone? Where was Manus? He had reached his room by the time he realized that he didn't care.

_What, you're just going to sleep now? That's a rather dull way to end a chapter…_

"What are you on about now?" Arthur rolled his eyes, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and removing his boots.

_Never you mind dear. Have your sleep, see if I care. Perhaps you'll be more interesting a little later…_

"Oh, well, sorry for boring you…" He muttered. "I wasn't aware that I was merely a source of entertainment." With that, he flung himself back onto the bed, dozing off within the hour.


	5. The Firewalk

Ch. 5

"_I swear Arthur, you can be so damn reckless!"_

_Arthur looked up with a scowl across his lips. The sun hadn't yet risen high enough to light the bedroom window, but he could still see the look on his eldest brother's face._

"_What have I done?" he snapped back. "You're the reckless one Allistor; you almost fell off the boat last night. And don't shout, you'll wake Peter." He took a seat on a small bed in the dimmest corner of the room. From beneath the covers all that could be seen was a pink button nose and a pair of eyes, shut and hidden beneath sandy locks._

"_Don't act like you're the innocent one here." Allistor growled, walking to the stove by the bed. "We both know that you're the one Da is going to be upset with when he gets home from market. You shouldn't have brought out those old books, they were locked up for a reason."_

"_If they aren't meant to be read, then why print them?" Arthur snapped back. He could practically feel his brother's boiling anger, like a pot about to overflow. "Will you hush? Peter needs to sleep!"_

"_Stop trying to change the subject!" Allistor's face had gone as red as his ginger hair. "You've gone and sent Ma into a panic, reading those books. They were locked up for a reason!"_

"_If they aren't meant to be read, then why print them?" Arthur stood up. "And what do you care for the way I read? It's not just about Ma, Allistor, it's in our blood! We should be reading what's in those books, she shouldn't be trying to hide them!"_

"_They're dangerous!" His elder brother turned his back to the fire, and his front to his brother. "You of all people should not be reading those books."_

"_Why not?"_

"_They're dangerous!"_

"_If they aren't meant to be read, then why print them?" Arthur crossed his arms over his chest. "It seems like a silly thing… and they're not dangerous, I've learned a good deal from them! They could be useful! If only Ma would let us learn from those books, we could finally-"_

"_You haven't learned a bloody thing!" Arthur vaguely registered a stinging pain on his cheek. His brother's hand had moved; it hung in the air a few feet away from him. "You're a child Arthur, a child! And children aren't supposed to be reading books like those!"_

"_If they aren't meant to be read, th-then why print them?" Arthur's teeth gritted together. He was used to fights by now, but not like this. A soft sound from behind him caught his attention. One cerulean-colored eye watched him, peeking out from over a pink button nose. Arthur put on a smile. "I'm sorry if we woke you Peter, go back to sleep…" he said softly. Allistor took little notice of their younger brother._

"_And there's another reason to keep those books locked away." The elder grumbled. "What if Peter were to get his hands on them? What if you hurt Peter? What would Ma say?"_

"_Oh for God's sake…" Arthur stood up from the bed. If Peter wasn't asleep, he did a good job of hiding it. Arthur shoved at his brother's chest. "Leave me be, Allistor!"_

"Arthur?"

"_I swear Arthur, you can be so damn reckless!"_

_Arthur?_

"_Get your hands off of me, you little bastard-!"_

"Arthur!"

Arthur jolted awake. His eyes darted about wildly until he started to take in his surroundings. It was a small space, lit by a short window at the top of one of the walls. Alfred was beside him. They sat on cushions thin enough to let something hard beneath be felt against one's rear. The near lack of light made it difficult to see Alfred lying beside him. Something lay over the both of them. Something pattered softly against the outside walls of their small enclosure.

"Are you okay?" Alfred frowned, tucking a bit of hair behind Arthur's ear.

_You look positively dreadful._

"It looked like you were having another nightmare…"

_The same one as usual, I presume?_

Arthur squinted in the darkness. He could just make out a touch of concern in Alfred's expression. "…where are we?" he whispered. He could still feel Alfred's hand against his cheek.

"The same place we were yesterday, my Queen…" Alfred's frown started to disappear, gradually becoming a smile. "And the day before that."

_You're still in a carriage Arthur, still bound for Clubs… and still with this boy-king you seem so fond of._

"W-we're… going to Clubs?" Arthur tried.

"Yeah." Arthur tensed when he felt something against his forehead, something warm and soft… something like lips. Alfred's hand snaked its way around his waist, but Arthur didn't have the heart to push him away. Besides, it was freezing cold.

"Wh-why is it so cold?" Arthur muttered, tugging up what seemed to be a thick, knit blanket. Alfred laughed.

"We're going along the northern border of Hearts to get there. It's the safest way, remember? I explained all of this to you before we left." For a moment he was silent, then he shifted a bit to meet Arthur's gaze. "Are you feeling well? You seem… off."

_Must have been one hell of a nightmare._

Arthur's eye twitched. "I-I assure you I'm perfectly fine…" he grumbled, hiding his face under a bit of blanket. He already wanted to go back to sleep. "I guess I just wish we didn't have to spend such a long time in this damned carriage, it's so cramped.

"I don't know, I've enjoyed getting to spend the time with you." Alfred laid back a little.

_As have I. It's such fun getting to tunnel around in your memories, Arthur, though I can't say I've liked everything I've seen…_

"Stop…" Arthur gritted his teeth together. He didn't realize he had said it out loud until he felt Alfred pulling his arm away. When he looked up, he could make out a frown on his face. "Uh- sorry, sorry, not you, I was just… thinking out loud. About… something…"

"You do that an awful lot you know." Alfred quirked an eyebrow. "Thinking out loud… are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"Yes, Alfred, I'm feeling fine, just… tired. Tired and sick of being cooped up in this damned carriage, it feels like we've been in here for ages!" He could hear a rumble of laughter from Alfred before he was suddenly heaved against the King's chest.

"It's only been a few weeks on the road Arthur, not even a month. Not very long at all." He put on a little grin. "It's just part of the journey. Maybe the journey doesn't matter, but it'll sure be nice when we get there."

"Yes…" Arthur trailed off, staring down at where he was sure his feet were. "I hope we can at least find somewhere to stop for the night though…"

"What, you don't like sleeping in the carriage?"

_What, you don't like snuggling up to your King?_

"I-I… I'd just much rather have a bed. Better for my back…" He sighed, taking a peek past the curtain to the outside. Luckily the wind and rain were going the opposite direction- in such a way that when Alfred tried to look out his window he was pelted by icy droplets- but he could hardly see a thing. Vague shapes seemed to trundle by with the passage of the carriage, tree trunks like the legs of a great beast. "Isn't there some sort of village or something around here…? There's got to be…"

"Not up in the mountains. We'll be lucky if we even find an inn before nightfall." Alfred leaned over Arthur to get a peek of the outside world. "If only the rain would clear up on my side I could show you the view…" He placed a hand on Arthur's arm. "I'll bet you anything that somewhere in this mountain, the Hearts have got trains running, that go all around the whole country, to Spades and Diamonds in some parts. I know we've got some that run all the way to Spades…"

"You and your wild tales." Arthur looked up at him, slumping back into his seat and trying to find a comfortable position. "I would be lying if I said I was tired of them… but for goodness sakes, what on earth is a train?"

/ \

By the time they reached somewhere they could stop for the night, the rain was threatening to pelt them into the side of the mountain. It was only by chance that one of their drivers happened to see the light of an inn in a small, sheltered place away from the rain. Upon learning that the King and Queen of Spades were inside- as well as a few of their guards and servants- rooms were prepared. The ancient grandfather clock behind the front desk read ten-thirty at night, but in mere minutes the entire inn was alight with activity, all to make sure that the King and Queen were well-received.

Arthur, who had spent much more of the trip looking out the opposite window to see if he could catch a glimpse of that view Alfred had spoken of, was bundled up in a heavy woolen blanket and silk pajamas and set up with a cup of hot tea. One of the servants offered to light up the fire in their room, but Arthur declined immediately.

_What was it you told them about the fire again? 'Too bright for you to sleep' or some nonsense like that?_

Arthur sighed, easing himself back into his seat. His gaze was fixed on the empty fireplace, though there were logs resting inside, waiting to be lit.

_You know, someone went through an awful lot of work to drag those things upstairs for you…_

Arthur grunted in response. "I have a hard time sleeping with fire in the room when it's not so close to the bed… we'll be just fine."

_Arthur, you're shivering._

"I'll be just fine…"

_Why don't you just light the fire yourself?_

"What are you on about? They haven't left me any matches to light it with."

_Darling, you and I both know that you don't need any matches…_

Arthur stiffened in his seat. "…shut up." He muttered. His eyes flicked down towards his hands. The tea was all but gone, leaving a bit of something soggy, crumpled, and black in the bottom of the cup. He set it down in its saucer and went back to staring at the empty fireplace. "I can't…"

_Aren't you cold, Arthur? You're shivering you know…_

His eyes flicked down towards his hands. The tea had warmed his fingers and his inside, but all that was left was something soggy, crumpled, and black in the bottom of the cup. "I'll be just fine…"

_Will you? You're shivering something awful Arthur, aren't you cold?_

"I'll be fine…" he stared at his hands. They were warm now. He glanced at the empty fireplace, the soggy, crumpled, black mass as the bottom of his teacup. His fingers were shivering, but his hands were so warm. He could practically feel the heat of the fire.

_Why don't you light the fire, Arthur? You're shivering, you know._

"I know." Arthur felt like he was burning up. His hands were shivering, but they were so warm. His eyes flicked to the empty fireplace, to the soggy, crumpled, black mass in his cup. His hands were on fire.

_Why don't you light the fire for yourself?_

Arthur yelped and flung the fire at the fireplace. In an instant the room was aglow with a soft, warm light. Arthur stared at it, hands still outstretched towards the crackling blaze. His hands were shivering.

"I thought you asked them not to light the fire." Arthur jumped. His gaze snapped to the door where Alfred stood, dressed in his own silk pajamas. Arthur's gaze flicked back to the fire, then to the King.

"I… I did…" he murmured, glancing down at his hands.

"So, what? Did they come back and light it for you?" Alfred quirked an eyebrow.

"Um…" Arthur blinked and folded his hands in his lap. "I… I lit it myself."

"…oh… okay?" Alfred frowned. For a moment he stood as if waiting for further explanation, but Arthur said nothing more. Slowly he walked to the fireside, putting up his hands to warm them. "Well… I guess I don't mind. I mean, it is pretty cold and all, and we are up in the mountains… are you alright?"

Arthur nodded.

"Arthur, you're acting strangely…"

"Am I?" Arthur looked him in the eye. In the reflection of Alfred's spectacles he could see his own eyes, and never before had he felt so utterly dead inside.

"Yes. You are." Alfred reached a hand out and pressed it to Arthur's forehead. "You feel a bit clammy, are you coming down with something?"

"Yes, yes… that must be it." Arthur's line of sight drifted slowly lower. He looked up only when he felt something touch his arm. It was Alfred.

"Come on, stand by the fire with me." Alfred gave him a little smile as if it were a peace offering. "You're ice cold, your hands are shaking. Come here, we'll hold them by the fire." He helped Arthur up, clasped his hands around Arthur's, and held them nearer to the blaze. "That's nice, huh?"

"Y-yes…" Arthur gulped. The fire. He was practically touching it. The fire. He felt like it was going to burn him if he got any closer. Within seconds he had yanked his hands away and tucked them behind his back. Alfred stared at him.

"You're sure you're alright?" He leaned down a little to level his gaze with Arthur's. "You look… kind of awful."

_He's right you know… but that's nothing out of the ordinary._

Arthur blinked. "I-I'm just tired… I couldn't sleep properly on that carriage, I… I miss our bed." At this, he was sure he saw Alfred crack a smile.

"So that's it?" Arthur felt an arm around his waist. "You're sure, that's all? You're sleepy?"

"Yes…"

"Well, why didn't you say so?" Alfred gave him a tug towards the bed. "We're going to be back on the road tomorrow, you had better get some sleep tonight. That tea might have helped, I had some myself. Come on, I'll unmake the bed for us…"

Within a few minutes Arthur found himself lying under several layers of thick blankets. Alfred lay beside him, his arms around him, his breathing slow, constant, and almost rhythmic. He had blown out the candles before tucking them both in. Arthur still lay with both eyes wide open.

_What's the matter darling? He's right, you need your rest, and you look like a hot mess…_

"I'm afraid of what I'll see if I dream again…" he whispered, tucking his head against Alfred's chest. His heartbeat was slow, constant, and almost rhythmic. He was fast asleep.

_You do need your rest dear. Don't worry, I'll shoo away those pesky dreams for you._

"W-will you?"

_Of course I will._

Arthur let out a long, slow breath. The voice in his head was gentle, like the feeling of someone's fingers running gently through his hair. It made him shudder. "I'm so afraid…"

_It's alright darling. All you need is a good night's rest, a long, dreamless sleep…_

"I'm so tired…" Arthur could barely hear the words leave his lips. His fingers were shivering. His eyelids threatened to drop shut at any moment. "Please… please, I just want to go to sleep…"

_Sleep you will, darling… sleep you will…_

\ /

_Arthur felt his eyes flick open. It was too hot, much too hot for his liking. When did the stove ever make the room so hot? He looked to his side. Bright flames licked at the wooden floor beside him, threatening to leap up at him. Fire scaled the walls and swept over the ceiling, taking wooden beams with it. One fell not far from his feet. Over the roar and crackle of the blaze, he heard something like thumping, and a voice through the smothering air._

"_Arthur!" He looked over. Brilliant green eyes found him, glowing with anger and light from the flames. It was his brother, with hair so red it could have passed off as part of the blaze. He reached out a shivering hand towards him. The skin was black. He could almost see the bone beneath it. Tears rolled down his cheeks and stung his face._

"_Allistor!" he screamed. His brother looked about ready to leave him, but he fought his way through flames and burning pieces of furniture._

"_Damn you Arthur, didn't I warn you about those books?" He growled. "This is all your fault!" He could see his brother's hand. It seemed so close. He reached out for it, cringing as the burns were tugged at and the skin was stretched. Something cracked beneath him. He looked down. The fire had reached the bed._

"_Allistor!" He shrieked, tears searing his cheeks. "Allistor, help!" He could see his brother's mouth move, but the words were barred from his ears by the horrid sound of splintering, cracking wood. In an instant the world fell away, and he fell with it. His brother was suddenly far, far above._

"_Allistor!" His hands reached towards his brother. He could see the utter horror reflected in his eyes._

"_Allistor!"_

A shriek ripped loose from Arthur's throat. The blankets. They were too hot. He tore them off and flung them to the opposite side of the bed. Something was moving beneath them. It stared at him.

"Arthur?!" The thing grabbed him by the sleeves. "Arthur, what's wrong?"

"Don't touch me!" Arthur braced his hands against its chest, but he didn't get a chance to shove before it recoiled away.

"Y-you're too hot!" It cried, clutching at its silk shirtfront. His hands had left singe marks where he had tried to push. Eyes the color of the sea looked him over in fear. Arthur felt like he was smothering. It was too hot. He was too hot. He looked down at his hands. His hands were on fire. Sea-colored eyes looked on in horror.

"What is that?!" He backed away. In the light of the new fire, Arthur could see the absolute horror in Alfred's eyes. He tried to reach towards him but Alfred pulled away, almost falling off the bed.

"I-I don't know!" he whimpered, staring at the fire resting in his outstretched hands. "I-it… it's not burning me… what's happening?" Unlike before, the fire didn't burn him; it merely sat quivering in his open palms.

"…witchcraft." The single word made Arthur's blood run cold. Slowly his gaze returned to Alfred. Any fear had faded, replaced by disgust and even anger. "Y-you… you're a witch, aren't you?"

"No, please…"

"That's what you are." Alfred scrambled out of bed, pointing a finger at him. He snatched up his glasses from the table. "You're a filthy witch!"

"Alfred, please, no!" Arthur stumbled across the bed, trying not to touch the covers for fear of setting the whole inn ablaze. He reached out for him, hands trembling. "I-I can explain!"

"Don't you _dare _touch me!" He saw Alfred raise a hand. He felt his head thud against the foot of the bed. After a few seconds, he felt his cheek stinging. Arthur could only see the shock in Alfred's eyes for a few moments before his vision started to blur with tears. He heaved himself back up and leapt from the bed. Alfred jumped back in surprise, allowing Arthur to rush past him. The halls seemed to blur together as he ran. The stairs. He had to get to the stairs. To the door. Outside. Not without a coat. The frigid mountain air made his eyes ache and the rain-turned-sleet pelted against him and soaked through his fine blue coat, but the fire in his hands kept him warm.

Where was he going? Frantic eyes darted about. Lights inside the inn were beginning to flicker on. A few people were coming from the stables to see what all the commotion was about, and why the Queen appeared to be standing outside in his pajamas and juggling two small fires. The road extended on too far in either direction to see where it ended, and the falling sleet kept him from seeing the road anyway. At his back, a small cliff overlooked the lower mountain, and the forest below.

"Arthur!" His eyes went wide. Alfred stood in the entrance to the inn, staring straight at him. "Arthur, wait! Come back!"

"S-stay away!" Arthur shrieked, holding the blaze in front of him. The two flames joined into a great ball of fire, but this wouldn't deter the King. "Alfred, I-I'm sorry! Please, I'm so sorry!"

"Arthur!" He started towards him, His boots didn't slip on the ground quite so much, but not even the sleet-slicked ground could slow him for long. "Arthur…"

"Stay away from me!" Arthur took a few small steps back until his heel threatened to topple over the edge.

"Arthur, stop this before you hurt yourself!" Alfred started to run forwards. Arthur panicked. If Alfred had been close enough, his outstretched hands might have been enough to shove him away. A tendril of the great blaze amassing in Arthur's hands, as if on his order, shot forth and struck Alfred across the face. The King screeched in agony and fell to the ground, clutching his face.

"Alfred!" Arthur threw his hands apart. The great fire fell away, but the force was enough to knock Arthur off his balance.

"Alfred!" He reached his hands out. His foot slipped. The world before him started to fall away. He could see the utter horror reflected in Alfred's eyes.

"_Alfred!_" In an instant, he was gone. He toppled from the edge of the cliff and fell what may as well have been a hundred feet. He felt himself strike the icy ground, but the pain didn't register until he was already tumbling down the mountainside. He screamed and cried until his throat was raw, trying and failing to catch a hold on a low-hanging branch or tree root before he rolled over it and amassed another bruise or scrape. Tears froze to his cheeks, and then fell away when he hit something particularly hard. He wasn't conscious when he finally reached the bottom.

/ \

_The air was warm and wet with rain. The mud gushed and sloshed beneath his feet as he walked, his steps small and slow. He didn't watch the road, nor where he was going. Arthur was looking up at the sky. Occasionally he would stop and let the warm rain patter against his face, washing away the tears and soot from his face. He felt like something awful had happened, like he had left something terrible behind him, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was. The rain felt nice._

"_Ah well…" he murmured, tilting his head back to let the sky clean his burns. Did he have burns? He looked down at his hands. The skin was a bit pink in places, especially his palms, but they were hardly anything he would call burns. Still, the rain felt nice._

"_I wonder where Allistor's gone…" he glanced towards the opposite side of the road. A little ways beyond the trees he could see the gray sea. It was strangely calm, but the gentle splashing sound of the waves on the rocks was soothing. He crossed the road to rest his feet, taking a seat in the mud. "Maybe… maybe they're off fishing." Aside from the rain it was a nice day for it. Or whaling perhaps? It was just as likely that he and their father were out there, his brothers too, save for little Peter. He was home safe with their mother, peeling potatoes and baking bread, and things that the smallest and weakest in a family of boys seemed prone to doing. His gaze wandered in the direction he had been walking from. Perhaps he should check on them?_

"…_no, I'm sure they're just fine." He was sure he was just on a walk to town. He wiped some of the mud on his feet away before he heaved himself back up. "Perhaps I'm going to town?" But he had no money. "Perhaps I'm going to go collect something?" From whom? "Perhaps I'm…" he trailed off. Who cared where he was going? It was so lovely and warm out, and the rain felt nice. He shut his eyes and walked for a while, letting the soot roll off his cheeks with the rainwater._

_After a little while, he could hear other footsteps in the mud. They certainly weren't human. He opened an eye to see what was happening. A small, spotted mare was slowly plodding along the road, nibbling at the choicest grasses along the side when she stopped and snuffing air through her nose. Arthur caught a smile tugging at his lips. Something compelled him to approach the gentle beast._

"_Hello there…" he greeted, his voice as kind as the pattering rain. The mare looked up. Her big, brown eyes seemed to search him, but she saw no threat. He let his hand rest against the bridge of her nose. "Easy there miss… my, you're beautiful, aren't you?" He chuckled, and she nickered along. "What's a creature like you doing alone out here? Are you lost?" He looked her over. She wore a saddle and saddle bag, with a fine blanket beneath it. She didn't seem to be wearing a bridle though. He moved his hand to her neck, and after a bit of encouragement she went along with him. _

"_I'll bet there's somebody out here looking all over for you… have you got a name?" He slowed a bit to give her time to reply. The horse said nothing. He pretended to act offended before he burst out giggling. "What am I saying; you're just a horse…" He stopped walking only when he realized the mare had stopped. Arthur looked up. "…soldiers?" A small army by the looks of it, or a ragtag group from an army. One man called to the others when he saw the horse, running ahead a bit. He stopped when he saw Arthur. Arthur merely stared._

"_Hello sir." He put on a small smile. "Is she yours?" The man hesitated, then stepped forth to bridle the horse._

"_She is not." He replied. "She is property of the royal cavalry… and she has quite a knack for wandering, she does." This made Arthur chuckle. A few of the other men came forth, all sparing a moment's glance for Arthur before they looked over some part of the mare. She stood, patiently munching at a juicy bit of grass she'd found._

"_What's the royal cavalry doing out here in Two?" Arthur quirked an eyebrow and stepped among the men. "Is the navy coming back to the port? Has the Queen been found?" The men laughed to varying degrees at his questions._

"_We wish!" said one._

"_Lots of young men out here, we hear, wasting their lives away. Heaven knows they could use a worthy cause."_

"_We are currently in search of the Queen." The largest man was the one to answer Arthur. "We are to search each and every individual in the country of Spades."_

"_Each and every?" One of the man scoffed. "Each and every girl and boy close in age to the King, you mean!"_

"_The King has been found?" Arthur looked to the second man. He was a small, portly creature._

"_The new King be the son of the old King and Queen… the prince, if you will."_

"_Is that so?" Arthur nodded slowly. Even he knew how rare it was for a King and a Queen to bear a child of their own._

"_Indeed." The first man looked down to Arthur. "His majesty has not yet reached his twentieth birthday… we are looking for all of those who would to him be eligible."_

"_You look to be about his age, my boy."_

"_What, me?" Arthur perked up. Him, the Queen? Preposterous._

"_Indeed." The first man glanced Arthur over. "You don't look much older than his majesty… we ought to have you looked over. Come on then lad, onto Matilda's back. We'll have you back at camp to be looked over." Arthur couldn't be bothered to protest. One of the men easily lifted him onto the back of the horse, and they were off. The ride wasn't long, but he spent most of it as he had his walk; with his head tilted back, and the rain washing away the grime from his face. The rain felt nice._

\ /

When Arthur awoke, he found that he was already on his feet. His steps were small and slow. His body ached with bruises and scrapes, and probably other things that didn't even have names. It hurt something awful.

"Where am I going…?" he murmured, his gaze wandering. He could see an expanse of what could have been a hill behind him, but looking a little further back he could see that it went much higher than any hill; he was at the base of the mountain.

_South. We're headed south._

Arthur blinked. He didn't stop walking, but he did glance around as if to see who was speaking.

_It's me, you fool. I'm taking us to the south and out of Spades. You've been out for hours… I was trying to sleep. What happened when you were up in those mountains?_

Arthur was quiet. He had no desire to remember what had happened just hours ago, nor to think about what Alfred had said. "…c-called me a witch…"

_What's that now?_

Arthur didn't speak a word. He couldn't. His throat felt like it was shutting up. His lips tremored slightly, his vision became bleary.

_What? Was it really that bad?_

Arthur reached up to rub his eyes. He could feel hot tears that warmed his fingertips. His legs stopped moving of their own accord.

…_oh, darling. Come, have a seat. You can't go on walking like that._

His legs dropped him in a rare dry spot under a tree. He sat against it and wept into his hands.

_There there, darling… that's it, you'll feel better if you let yourself cry for a while._

There was that voice again, soft like satin fingertips running through his hair and down his back. If it didn't feel so nice he might have scratched the feeling away. He pulled his knees up and hid his face against them.

"Wh-where am I supposed to go?" Arthur sniffled, sitting up to stare at his empty hands. There was no fire to warm him now.

_Why not back to Spades, sweetheart? You can't go back there?_

"N-no!" He clenched his hands into fists. "Not Spades! H-he might be waiting for me there… h-he'll kill me if he sees me! I can't go back to Spades!"

_Alright, alright, not Spades. But he was on his way to Clubs, he was, so not there either… and you can't stay in Hearts…_

Arthur sniffled and rubbed his eyes on the now tattered sleeve of his coat. "Wh-where else is there?" He choked out. Was there no place left in the world for him?

…_someplace lovely. I'll get you there, don't worry love. You'll be okay._

His legs stood him up again. Shaky hands brushed off his dust-covered behind before setting off again. "Wh-where am I going to go?"

_Don't worry about it dear. I'll get you someplace safe, don't you worry about a thing. Just… try to think of something happy._

"H-happy…" Arthur sniffed, casting his gaze to the ground. The narrow path had all but turned to mud, clinging lightly at his bare heels as he walked. He wrapped his arms around himself. After a little while he let his gaze wander, until he found himself with eyes shut and head tilted back, letting the warm rain wash away his tears. "…the rain does feel nice." he murmured.

_That's it sweetie, think about the rain._

Arthur nodded and let his feet carry him. Gradually he tuned out of his thoughts and into the gentle sounds of the forest: the humble drone of the rain, the whisper of the wind, the splash of the mud under his feet and between his toes. Every so often a bird would chirp or flutter somewhere and he would crack an eye open, only to find the sky and trees around him changed. He said no more though. He didn't care where he was going, not now, but he trusted the demon to get him there.


	6. Out of Place

Ch. 6

_Arthur puffed a little sigh, dragging himself from sleep. As much as he appreciated the knights sending him on his way, and he knew he shouldn't complain about the promise of an exciting new life, the ride was awfully boring. He'd been cooped up in a carriage for what felt like ages with little more to do than read some books the drivers happened to have. Occasionally he would look out the window and catch a glimpse of something nice, but these moments were rare; there weren't many nice views in Spades. Just half an hour ago he had tugged the curtain aside to find himself practically looking over a ledge- a ledge they were much too close to for his liking, a ledge that had to drop at least a few hundred feet. The drivers had assured him that the ride was perfectly safe. He shuddered at the memory and sat up, tugging open the little shutter separating him from the drivers._

"_Pardon me?" One of the men looked back at him and grinned._

"_What can we do you for, your highness?" he asked, turning to the window. Arthur chuckled and sat up on his knees. He crossed his arms over the top of the seat._

"_I was just wondering… how much longer is it now, until we reach the palace?" The man laughed a bit, glanced at the other driver, and leaned in closer._

"_I'll put it like this, your majesty… look out yer left window, why don't you?" He nodded towards it. Arthur shifted over so he could see the window, pulling aside the curtain. Before him stood a great stone wall with numerous guards visible beyond the parapets. People walked along the base of the wall, smiling and laughing and talking to one another. Some of them hauled carts, one or two tried to sell wares by one of the great towers of the wall. Of course, the wall itself didn't keep his attention for long. He was looking past it at the enormous palace beyond it, the high walls of stone with blue banners flying and towers raised like spears to menace the sky. He knew he was staring, but only when his driver decided to speak up did he realize that he was gaping as well._

"_Oi, your majesty? Are you alright?" One of the men called, tapping the inside of the little window. "Your majesty? Oi, your majesty!"_

"Oi, mista?"

Arthur jolted from his sleep, glancing beside him. Big, bright, hazel eyes were fixed on him. The eyes of a small boy with freckles spattered across his cheeks. A large man a little further away, his father, spared Arthur a glance. He cleared his throat and sat up a bit.

"This is the furthest we can take you sir." He gestured towards the outside. Arthur blinked a few times and glanced to his opposite side. The ground was only a few feet away with a step in between his feet and the dirt road below. "I hope you haven't forgotten our arrangement?"

"Of course not." Arthur fished into his pockets and produced a small sack of coins. He set them on the seat and slid them over. The little boy picked the sack up and peered inside. A wide grin appeared across his thin lips.

"Thanks mista!" He waved and gave a toothy smile, but Arthur only laughed.

"No, no, thank you. It was kind of you to let me ride along with you for so long…" He mustered up a smile for the boy and his father. Already the man had taken the little bag of coins from the boy, but after looking into the bag himself he was satisfied with what he saw.

"Good luck with your business, sir." He nodded and, once Arthur had safely climbed down, gave his ponies the sign to go. The little boy sat up on his knees and waved as they rode away. Arthur couldn't help but wave back until the two were far, far out of sight.

_Awfully friendly duo, those two were._

"Indeed." Arthur sighed, crossing the road. "Friendly of them to let me sleep through the larger part of the trip, and to not take from me what they would and toss me aside."

_Don't speak that way, you sound so cynical. Who do you think you are, me?_

Arthur laughed, making his way through the forest. "Very funny. And you still have yet to tell me where it is you're taking me. Don't you think that after three weeks of this, I deserve to know?" He crossed his arms over his chest at he went; he was used to letting the demon guide his legs by now, he hardly thought about walking.

_Don't worry about that. I haven't led you too far astray, have I? Besides, if all goes smoothly, you'll be there by this evening._

"Will I?" He quirked an eyebrow. He had gotten used to sleeping with aching legs and resting under and sometimes in trees. The coat he'd taken as he had run from the inn was worn. He'd used it as not just a blanket but a tie to keep him in the tree while he slept. On occasion, it would even act as an umbrella. It wasn't so unlike running around in his backyard in Two where he and his brothers played their silly games, though this was far more real and dangerous. After all, there was no real threat of being stabbed or captured in his backyard. "My goodness, are those crickets I hear? You're sure you can get me there by this evening?"

_Hush! I said I would, so I will! You'll be there before the sun rises tomorrow morning._

"That's not terribly promising." Arthur's smile faded a bit. The final leg of his journey didn't seem as though it would be quite as simple as the rest had been. Even when it had poured rain or the skies would howl with wind there was always a path to follow. He had still-scraped hands and perpetually bruised knees, but already the little scratches of stray branches were bothering him. "You're sure you know where you're taking me? And you're sure it's safe?"

_To hell with you and your 'safety', you'll be safe when you get there! And for the thousandth time, I know where we're going! I've gotten you this far, haven't I?_

Arthur thought a moment, and said nothing. No point in arguing when there was nothing much to argue about. Besides, he was looking forward to stopping that evening. "We'd best hurry, it looks like it's going to storm tonight…" he muttered. Wherever they were going, he could only pray he would be given something to eat when he got there; he was starving!

\ /

The hours seemed to fly away like seconds as Arthur trudged through the forest. Against all his hopes, the storm simply couldn't be bothered to wait until nightfall. Rain poured down, worse than it had on any other day or night since he had gotten lost in the forest. The wind chilled him to the bone. Bruises that he was sure would heal soon had been scratched relentlessly by branches and brush until they bled again. Even his calloused feet didn't escape the torment, leaving specks of blood on the rocks and mud behind him. Any hint of a smile from earlier was gone.

"Y-you said I would be there by now…" he grumbled for the umpteenth time, arms crossed over his chest. He had the sense to wear the coat like a coat now, but it did almost nothing to shield him from the elements. With his silk pajamas in the state they were in, he was practically naked to the storm.

_Trust me, it isn't far now, you'll see._

"You've been saying that for hours." Arthur croaked, his voice hoarse. He couldn't remember the last meal he had. When had he last had a proper drink of water? He stuck his tongue out and, while he did catch a few plump drops, he was quick to pull it back in for fear of sucking up an insect. "It hurts… I want to stop now…"

_Hush Arthur. We'll be there soon enough, just quit that incessant whining._

"I'm exhausted." He looked down at his feet. Whether it was blood or muck that coated their soles he couldn't tell, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. "Everything _hurts_. I want to take a rest."

_It's not much farther, you'll see, just another minute I swear._

"I can't walk another minute!" A lump rose up in his throat, but he choked it down. "I want to stop. Stop this instant. Please, I-I can't keep going like this…"

_Don't say that. You're a human, your body repairs itself. You'll be just fine._

"N-no…" he groaned. If the demon weren't forcing him on, he would have stopped. He narrowed his eyes and forced himself to look ahead. "Wh-what's that there in the distance? Is th-that a light?"

_It's your destination._

Arthur sucked in a breath and pressed on. More lights came into view. Through the rain he could see numerous twinkling lights in the darkness, fine glass windows that sparkled like fallen stars. Around them stood a wall. He slowed a bit when he reached it. He could see the gate ahead, and the guards as well. He went out of his way to get onto the path before he let them see him.

_There are some guards. Tell them you're here to see the King._

"Why…?"

_Just do it, trust me._

Arthur's mind was too clouded with pain to question it. He staggered up to the gate. The two guards held their spears at the ready, but they started to lower them as he stepped into the light. Arthur straightened up, looking back and forth between the two of them.

"…I'm here to see the King." He called. He blinked once, twice, and for a moment he didn't think he was going to open his eyes again. He fought to keep them open.

"Qu'est-ce que dit-il?" One of the guards seemed to speak to the other, gesturing towards the pathetic figure standing before them. Arthur shuffled forth another small step.

"I-I'm here to see the King." He said again. The guards stood at the ready, but neither really looked up to gutting a wounded man.

"Qui êtes-vous? Qu'est-ce que vous voulez?" One of the men stepped closer to Arthur to look him over. He seemed startled when Arthur suddenly grabbed onto his shirtfront, prompting him to raise his weapon again.

"T-take me to the King." Arthur said again. He looked up at the guard. If he were any closer he would bleed onto the man's uniform. "Take me to the King!" The man scowled and tried to shove him off but Arthur wouldn't let him far. Even once he lost his grip he stumbled forwards to catch himself. He found he had control of his legs again. "Take me to the King!"

The guard shoved him off. Arthur nearly fell but the demon seemed to catch him from the inside and help him back up. He was mere feet away from the gate reached the gate.

"Take me to the King!" He was shouting now. Other guards were looking. A few nicely dressed people looked from a doorway far down the gravel path, but they were ushered away swiftly. Arthur tried to start down the path but he was halted by the guards. He couldn't understand a word they said, but he could tell they were angry with him. He scowled. "Take me to see your King!" One of them smacked him lightly against the head. One man took him by each of his arms, carrying him towards the great door and the hundreds of windows. Another few stood behind them.

_You fool, don't let them take you in! They'll lock you up to rot! Do something!_

"S-stop!" Arthur made a weak attempt to struggle away. The gravel beneath his feet turned to white marble steps, but even these didn't escape the stain of his blood. There was close to enough to cover his footprint. "Take me to the King! L-let me go, brutes! I must see the King!" The doors swung open before him. He took little notice of the beautiful entryway with its potted foliage and violet-colored carpets that neatly coated the walkways. However, he did look past it. Another great wooden door stood a little ways away. Through it he could see dozens of people, perhaps hundreds, all dressed in fine clothes; ladies in flowing silk dresses and caked-on makeup, gentlemen in their nicest suits and shiny dancing shoes, even the guards at the door to this little event were nicely-dressed. Arthur noticed none of them. He was concerned only with a single figure at the center of it all; a man dressed in white and gold, with flowing locks tied back at the base of his neck and a great beaming smile that never faltered as he spoke. This man was familiar.

"…Francis." Arthur's voice was barely above a whisper. Everything began to fall into place, but he gave himself no time to appreciate the brilliance of the careful plan the demon in his head had concocted. His mind was on one person only. "Francis!" He tore away from the guards and broke into a run down the carpet-lined walkway. The guards couldn't catch him this time, he made himself too fast. Other guards and even servants tried to stop him but he leapt out of the way or shoved them aside. He was almost to the door before he thought to call again.

"FRANCIS!" he shrieked. The poor man barely had a moment to realize he was being called on before Arthur came barreling into him. People cried out in surprise and moved away as his Majesty and the ragged stranger were knocked to the ground. For a few moments only the ripples of murmuring voices could be heard. Slowly, Arthur lifted his head, meeting eyes with the startled King he had just bowled over. He watched his expression turn from surprise to utter shock.

"Arthur?" Arthur felt tears prickling his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but then, something was suddenly strange. Something had touched him, something cool and flat like steel… the back of his head. Had someone just struck him with something? He had no time to process this before he fell to the ground with a thump. He heard a flurry of gasps and panicked voices, and one closest to him that was loud, afraid, and seething with outrage. Black spots began to cloud his vision.

"F-Francis…" Sky-blue eyes flicked down to his. Francis sat him up and looked him in the eye. He could tell his lips were moving, but he couldn't hear a word he said. The last thing he remembered was how utterly afraid Francis looked.

\ /

A groan escaped Arthur's throat as he woke. Absolutely everything on his body ached; his head was pounding, his legs felt about ready to fall off, and his feet stung from being subjected to walking for hours over jagged stones. If he had the energy, he might have cried from the pain. For a while he was content to lay still, debating with himself over whether or not to open up his eyes and see where he had fallen asleep this time. It didn't feel like the forest.

_Of course we aren't in the forest, don't you remember what happened you imbecile?_

Arthur dug through his memories. Of course, he had reached his destination! It was pouring rain, and then there was the little skirmish with the guards, and then…

His eyes flicked open. "Francis." Before he even thought about trying to sit up, he found himself looking down. Under his nose sat a sunny-golden rose, bringing back lovely memories of that morning in the garden when he and Francis had last spoken. "…he left me a rose-" Arthur paused to cough. His throat was terribly sore when he tried to speak. He heaved himself against what seemed to be a small heap of pillows cupped the precious little bloom in his hands. A beautiful gift from a beautiful man… He blinked. What was he thinking? Despite the heat rising to his cheeks he tried to shake the thought away, forcing his attention onto something more immediate- his surroundings.

Someone had brought him to a beautiful bedroom. He didn't see the empty fireplace at the far end of the room for the high, cream-colored walls, and the odd little light fixtures that lined the walls. They were made of glass with a coil inside that emitted light, nothing at all like the light of a candle. He marveled at the one nearest to him for a while before his eyes took to wandering again. There was so much else to look at in the room, but surely nothing was as marvelous as those. Still, something else was there to catch his eye.

He gasped, his gaze fixed on the bed he lay in. All across the top of the fine silk bedspread someone had laid dozens of sunset roses. Stripped of their stems they laid like water lilies over the surface of a pond. He raised a hand to cover his gaping mouth, although it wasn't just the flowers that had surprised him. At the far end of the bed, close to his feet, a young man sat by the bed- well, sat may have been a generous term, he seemed to have fallen asleep on a little wooden stool next to the bed, and he now lay across it, his golden locks hanging over his face. Arthur felt his lips tug in a smile. He sat himself up and, trying to move as slowly as he could for his injuries, he gave the man's head a nudge.

"Francis?" he whispered. The man didn't stir. He nudged a little harder. "Francis!" It seemed as if Francis didn't expect to be woken up, and when he did he jumped back, eyes flitting about until they landed on Arthur. He put on a smile so warm and sweet that Arthur swore it made his stomach flutter.

"Bonsoir, Arthur." Francis scooted a little closer. Arthur struggled to keep back a smile, gently toying with the petals of one of the roses.

"Soir… heh, shouldn't it be bonjour?" he asked. Francis laughed. "That's… that's it, isn't it?"

"Oui, normally. But not at this hour." He nodded towards the window. It was pitch dark outside. Arthur found himself staring for a little while. "It's okay… it's early morning, it can be bonjour if you'd like… but that isn't important. How are you feeling? You looked awful when you arrived." Arthur opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself when he realized that Francis had moved much closer. He could feel his hand against his forehead. It was wonderfully warm.

"I, um… I-I'm feeling a little better…" Arthur quickly glanced himself over. Someone had been kind enough to care for him while he was out. The blankets were thick beneath the covers, generous given the time of year, and though he couldn't see them he was sure that his feet were bandaged up. Even the worst of his scrapes and bruises didn't feel quite as bad anymore.

"That's good to hear." Arthur blinked. Francis sat back down, and his smile returned. "I was just asking to be sure… you've got a bit of a fever, I think."

"I do?" Arthur reached up to feel his own forehead.

_That's not going to do a thing, you've got warm hands. You know you've got warm hands!_

Francis chuckled and took a hold of Arthur's hand, clasping it between his own. "That probably won't work…" he mumbled. "I'll have a nurse come and take your temperature later. You might already be in for a couple days in bed you know, and if you're ill it might be a few more."

"Oh, no, I-I'm sure I'll be fine." Arthur replied quickly. Francis looked surprised by his response, but Arthur was quick to explain himself. "You see, I've been walking just about nonstop in this state for a while now, so I'll be just fine. In fact, I bet I'll be up by morning." This didn't bring Francis the relief he had hoped it would. If anything, Francis only looked more worried, and a little scared.

"I see…" His smile had vanished. "And… why exactly have you been roaming around in this state?" Francis held Arthur's hand a little tighter. "And, if you don't mind my asking, Arthur… why _are_ you here?"

Arthur fell silent. In his mind he was back in that horrible night, being chased away by Alfred, being screamed at, chased outside into the cold, and then there was the fall… He shuddered and quickly shook his head.

"If it's all the same to you Francis, I-I would rather not talk about it. It's a rather… delicate topic." He bit his lip, squeezing his hand around Francis's. The last thing he wanted to think about was his King, or his horrid curse of the arts. Francis didn't look so happy with this answer, but he merely puffed a sigh and shrugged.

"I won't press you then." he mumbled. Arthur bit his lip, cowering away a little.

"S-sorry…" he lowered his head. "I just can't talk about it… not right now, it's too painful."

"Arthur, it's alright." The Queen dared an upward glance. Francis had moved in close again, his lovely smile back in place. "It's none of my business, I was just curious. You don't have to tell a soul if you don't want to… although, I have to say that I was honored to find myself as the ah, object of your determination. It is lovely to see you again." Arthur tensed up and cast his eyes away. He had forgotten just how exhausted he had been when he first stumbled through the palace doors, how he'd run straight towards Francis, how he had been ready to cry at the mere sight of him… he glanced up when he heard Francis's bubbly laughter.

"Wh-what?"

"Your face is turning bright red." Arthur felt his face as if it would drive the color away. Francis snickered and reached up to pull his hand away. "No, no, don't hide it, I think it's cute."

_Cute? What a compliment, and from the King himself no less…_

"Shush!" Arthur yanked his hands away and covered his face, earning him more of Francis's precious laughter. He struggled not to just hide under the covers when he felt Francis trying to pull his hands away.

"I'm only teasing you! Arthur, don't hide that nice face from me!" He was laughing as he lowered Arthur's hands to his lap. Of course, Arthur had to play along. He turned his head to keep his red face from being seen, at least until he found himself giggling too. Within a few minutes Francis had him laughing until his stomach hurt, fighting away hands that threatened to prod at or tickle him.

"A-alright, Francis… F-Francis, stop, I'll s-stop...!" He choked for breath, but never did the grin leave his lips. Somehow he ended up in a position with Francis standing over him, one hand by a shoulder, the other against his side, and both of Arthur's own hands braced against the King's chest. He was too weak to really push him off.

"There, see? You can't hide those rosy cheeks from me forever." Francis sat himself back down, though not before helping Arthur sit up again. "Although that was fun…"

"Indeed." Arthur nodded, already tired out. "I can't rightly remember the last time I laughed like that."

"Then I'm glad to have been witness to it." Francis helped Arthur lay back against the covers. "You look tired… would you like something to eat, drink maybe? You like tea, don't you?"

"Tea would be nice…" Arthur paused. "Oh, I couldn't ask you to wake your kitchen staff just for me, that would be horribly rude."

"Nonsense, they've been up for hours. In fact, they should already be at work on breakfast." Francis brushed away his protests and pulled up the covers for him. "I'll have a nice meal brought here for you, perhaps something small, definitely something to help with that throat of yours… I suppose if you're feeling up to it, you can join me and my guests for breakfast later as well." Arthur brightened up, but he didn't move from his place on the bed.

"Thank you…" Arthur gave him a smile and eased back against his pillows. "I think I might try to rest a little more, at least until it gets here."

"You should!" Francis started towards the door. "And after as well, you look like you need it badly. I'll come and fetch you when it's time for breakfast." Arthur tried to laugh that off, but even after Francis disappeared behind the door into whatever lie beyond he couldn't help but wonder if he was right; did he really look tired?

_Of course you do, you've hardly slept in weeks. If someone told me to sleep after what you'd been through, I'd take them up on it! He even provided a bed…_

"Yes…" Arthur sighed and curled back up under the covers. Some of the roses had fallen off the bed, but he decided that it was much too painful to try and reach down to pick them up. "I must look truly pathetic like this… and I feel even worse."

_Look on the bright side, at least that Francis fellow was nice enough to have you dragged up here._

"I suppose…" The Spades and Diamonds weren't on very friendly terms, last he'd heard, so perhaps it was a blessing that he was even being allowed to stay. He felt lucky enough that he hadn't been locked up. "…He was right about my needing sleep though, I'm still tired."

_Then sleep, boy. I can ward off those awful dreams if you'd like._

"Maybe you can do me a favor and get rid of the nightmares instead?"

_If that's what floats your boat._

Arthur chuckled and settled in under the covers again. He fell asleep to images of Francis's bright, cheery smile.

/ \

It seemed that time really did fly by when Arthur least wanted it to. Before he knew it he was being dressed for a fine royal breakfast. Unlike his post-wedding night breakfast, however, nobody tried to stick him in a dress this time around. The servants did seem surprised with just how easily he put on Diamond clothes, however, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. They were very comfortable.

_It's likely got something to do with your bizarre human politics. You know how these rich people are…_

"I suppose…" Arthur mumbled, combing through his hair with his fingers. "I wish I had a mirror, I've got to know how bad I look."

_Oh hush, you look just fine, as always._

"I do not, I'm covered in bruises!" A knock at the bedroom door kept him from further arguing against the voice in his head. He straightened himself up and hurried to answer it. A servant stood outside.

"I will… escort, to the meal?" he said, gesturing down the hall. Arthur stared at the odd little man for a moment or two before giving him a nod and following him. He was sure that they had to be in a great palace once he got a good look around, everything was gorgeous! The portraits on the wall looked so real that Arthur was sure they would step out of their frames any moment. Everywhere he looked he felt like there was something beautiful waiting to catch his eye, whether it be a statue, a little plant, or some fine painting. A couple of times the little servant man had to drag him away from some particularly gorgeous landscape.

"Nobody told me that the art would be so lovely!" He whined. "Didn't you see it? That one was beautiful! The flowers looked so real, and the water, and-"

"Breakfast!" Arthur decided that his appreciation for the arts was lost on this man. He went along behind him, arms crossed over his chest, only driven onwards by the promise of a good meal.

He felt like it took far too long to reach the dining room, but he was glad when he got there. The scent of fresh pastry was wafting its way from the kitchens, and the moment he stepped into the room he found Francis smiling at him. He hardly looked at anyone else at the table, nor did he see the way they looked at him.

_It seems that he's been kind enough to save you a seat right beside him._

Arthur perked up when he realized that it was true. He glanced to Francis for permission before trotting over, taking the seat to his right.

"Glad you could make it. Those clothes really do suit you better." He whispered. Arthur allowed himself to relish the little compliment before he thought of a response.

"…thank you." Arthur giggled quietly and looked back to his plate. Strangely enough, it seemed that it was already full of food. "Did you do this while you were waiting for me?" he asked.

"Do what?" Francis stared at Arthur's set place for a few seconds. "The food? No, no, everyone is served like that. This is a nice meal, Arthur, we're in Diamonds."

"Oh, I see." Arthur cleared his throat and tried not to act too offended when Francis chuckled.

_Well, he didn't have to say it like that. Personally I like the idea of getting to have as much food as I like._

Arthur said nothing to the demon for fear of looking like a fool. Did it even eat? No matter, other people at the table had started eating, so he tried to copy what they and Francis were doing. Forks were such unwieldy things. He tried holding his the way he held a pencil, picking away at blueberries on the side of his plate. When he did look around, he often found people looking away just as he looked up, or whispering and pointing at him. He could see a few young ladies giggling across the table and he immediately cast his eyes down.

_What's that attitude about? You're a man, they're pretty women, and your husband is a thousand miles away…_

Arthur lowered his head to hide the horrid shade of pink he could feel staining his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He could hear the ladies giggling quietly.

"Is everything alright?" Arthur glanced up. How did Francis always end up so close to him?

"Um, yes, yes, I'm just fine…" Arthur sat up straight again. "I-I just… I suppose I'm not as hungry as I thought I was is all." Francis frowned and tucked a finger under Arthur's chin, turning him every which-way.

"You aren't feeling sick or anything, are you? You don't feel too warm… do you think it's something in the food?"

"No, no, it isn't the food…" Arthur glanced down at the beautifully arranged plate. How could he blame such a gorgeous meal on his own upset stomach? "It's probably something else… maybe I caught some illness wandering around in the forest."

"…yes, that's probably it." Francis leaned back in his seat again, though his eyes didn't leave Arthur. Arthur tried to preoccupy himself with a fluffy pastry of some sort and some jam, spreading it over and over its golden surface before he looked back up at Francis.

"I'm certain it's just some sort of cold." He tried to muster up a smile. "You haven't got to be so worried about me you know, I'm fine. It's just a stomach bug or something; I used to get them all the time as a child." It was common in Spades for those sorts of things to go around, especially in a family with six boys who never washed. Francis blinked, his small smile returning.

"I'm sure it's just something like that." He reached over and put his hand on Arthur's. Arthur paused, staring at it. Francis had such long fingers, and his hands were warm and soft… "As long as you're sure you're okay. But promise me you'll tell me if you don't feel well?" Arthur gulped.

"Y-yes, of course I will!" He leaned away a little. Francis chuckled.

"That's good to hear." Francis moved closer. Arthur caught himself staring at his lips until his back touched the back of his chair. He could feel his cheek brush against the King's. "I would hate for any harm to come to you… Arthur." His words were barely louder than his breath. Arthur was certain that Francis's lips grazed his cheek as he pulled away, but he was far too caught up in how close they had been. If Francis weren't still holding his hand he might have felt his cheek.

_This Francis fellow is quite the charmer, isn't he? Alfred never says your name like that…_

Arthur blinked back to reality. It was a colder reality, where he could see the young ladies across the table beaming and tittering amongst each other, and Francis was back in his own seat, sipping at his coffee. He had even started speaking to someone else. Arthur hurried to get himself a bite of something else, the first piece of fruit he laid eyes on, whatever would make it look like he wasn't still thinking about it. It was only a kiss on the cheek after all.

_You humans get worked up over the most frivolous things you know._

Arthur would have shushed him if he weren't afraid of looking like a fool. He knew he was a fool, or that he was at least acting like one. Only a fool would go on holding Francis's hand.

\ /

"So, the reason nobody would speak to me is because they don't understand me?"

"That is part of it, yes." Francis put on a grin. "Breakfast isn't always a time for deep conversation, but most of them don't speak the language of you Spades."

"But you speak it!" Arthur frowned, clutching tight to Francis's hand.

"Well of course I do, I'm the King. It's my job to learn languages so that I can deal in politics between countries… and I would advise you do the same once you get back to Spades."

"Spades?" Arthur's nose crinkled. He slowed down a little. Francis stopped and looked back at him.

"Yes, Spades." He quirked an eyebrow. "Your country? The country that you're the Queen of?"

"I-I remember what Spades is! B-but… I can't go back. Not yet. I doubt I would be welcomed…" Arthur chewed at his bottom lip. Memories of Alfred's anger over his magic were still fresh in his mind. He could still hear his screaming in his nightmares, the stinging in his cheek, and the utter terror that had pushed him to run away from the little inn. He didn't think he could face Alfred again after that, the thought of doing to made him sick to his stomach. "…Alfred wouldn't want to see me."

"Oh?" Francis glanced up and down the hall. It was empty, save for a few servants who were more interested in Arthur's presence than in anything he had to say. Francis placed a hand on Arthur's waist and led him away, giving them a wink that would send them scuttling away with rumors on their lips. He led Arthur through a large set of double doors. "Did something happen between you and your King?" he asked. Arthur flicked his gaze to the ground in shame and let Francis lead him to a small sofa.

"W-we had a bit of a… an argument, I suppose you could call it." He mumbled. He and Alfred were a married couple, and there had been quite a bit of shouting involved, that constituted an argument in his eyes.

"Whatever about?" Arthur looked up. Francis was holding one of his hands against his chest in his own. Arthur could not tell for the life of him whether it was a look of concern or worry, but he was most certain that whatever it was, it was completely genuine.

_What do you think, dear? Are you ready to spill this whole story out to someone other than me?_

Arthur sucked in a small, shaky breath. "…nothing much, really. I-it was something silly, a nightmare I think…" he mumbled. "H-he was just so angry, it scared me. I didn't think he could get that mad over anything."

"He isn't the type to anger easily..." Francis nodded along. When had moved that arm around Arthur's shoulders?

"I know, b-but he was furious, shouting and screaming and all. I thought his hand would bruise my cheek but I-"

"His _what?!_" Francis suddenly seemed a lot closer. His eyes flew wide open in horror, searching Arthur's complexion for signs of a long-faded handprint. "H-he hit you? He hit you across the face, just like that?" Arthur tried to back away a little but Francis moved with him. "When was this? Recently?

"Er, n-no…"

"How long ago was all of this? Does it still hurt?"

"N-no, no, it was a few weeks ago. Maybe a month… i-it doesn't hurt anymore."

"He didn't do anything else to you, did he? What did he do? Has he done this before? Please tell me he hasn't, y-you haven't been letting him treat you like that?"

"No!" Arthur braced his hands against Francis and tried to push him back a little. "No, no, it isn't like that! It was one little argument, he didn't hurt me other than that, I just fell down a-" Arthur found himself silenced by Francis's shoulder. Francis had his arms wrapped around, holding him in his place against the sofa cushions.

"Arthur…" Francis gave him a squeeze. Arthur grunted in response. "Oh, Arthur, you can't live like that! If I had known… well, I couldn't have done anything, b-but I would have said something to him!"

"Francis!" Arthur pried himself away. He put a finger to Francis's lips before he continued. "For goodness sakes, just listen a moment, will you? Nothing like this happened before the argument… it was a one-time thing."

"A one-time thing so bad that you ran to the kingdom of your worst enemies?" Arthur scowled at him.

"No!" He heaved himself into a sitting position.

_If you want him to stop, maybe you should try telling him you came all this way to see him. That'll shut him up._

"Francis, I…" Arthur hesitated. Well, what did he have to lose? "…this was the only place I felt like I would be safe. I-I came to Diamonds because I thought I would be safer with you." It was utterly sappy, he knew it was. Not something he thought was particularly true, or even believable, but Francis seemed to think just the opposite; he was stunned to silence.

_For hell's sake, I didn't think you were actually going to do it._

Arthur's lip quivered. He felt utterly betrayed.

"Arthur…" He looked back to Francis. The King was slowly moving away again, though he wasn't really keeping his distance like he had been before. Arthur sat up as soon as he could, awaiting his response in silence. "…you're a fool for coming here." Francis muttered. "Diamonds and Spades are sworn enemies. Y-you could have been recognized by someone who wanted to harm you, some revolutionary young person, you could have been hurt… but I'm honored that you thought of me first." He cleared his throat and sat with his back straight against the back of the couch. Arthur could see a slight flush of pink on his porcelain cheeks. Arthur's eyes flitted down in time to catch Francis reaching for his hand. He let him take it. "Th-that means more to me than you realize… it's an awful lot of trust to put on me, you know…"

"Is it?" Francis looked over at him. This time Arthur was the one who had moved closer. He sat up on his knees, holding Francis's hand close to his heart. "Because the truth is, Francis, I… I-I really like you." His trembling lips somehow made a smile. "And… I trust you."


	7. Breaking Vows

Ch. 7

By the end of the day, Arthur wasn't entirely sure what events led him to the supper table in the royal Diamond dining room. He knew that now he was sitting beside Francis, spooning something warm and delicious into his mouth and listening to the idle chatter of the other dinner guests around him, their voices like the gibberish of birdsong. As long as he could still pick out Francis's voice beside him, he was more than content to refrain from trying to make conversation. After all, people seemed to like that he was a 'quiet and respectful guest', as Francis put it. Really, he was just happy to have a good, hot meal. Breakfast had been nice, but the stew was wonderful.

"What about you, Arthur?" Arthur looked up. Francis was smiling at him again. He sat up straighter and flicked his gaze around. A couple of other people seemed to be watching him.

"Sorry, I wasn't listening…" The other guests chuckled, as did Francis.

"I asked if you're still hungry."

"Oh!" Arthur put on a small smile. "Not really, this stew is just filling me up. It's so good, isn't it?" Again Francis laughed. He said something to those who were listening and they laughed along, presumably at whatever he'd said.

"Very well. We can get to bed a little early tonight, I'm sure we're all tired, it's been an exhausting couple of days for us here, what with the solstice and all."

"What's the solstice?" Arthur looked up at him. Francis was staring, and his smile faltered slightly.

"It was the summer solstice just a day or two ago…"

"What's that?" Arthur set his spoon in the bowl, taking a quick glance around the table to see if there was a specific was it was supposed to be done. "A Diamond holiday?"

"…not at all. It's the first day of summer." He frowned. "It's one of the most important holidays here in Diamonds, don't you celebrate it in Spades…?" Arthur perked up.

"Oh, we do. But that sort of festival doesn't really last a few days, does it? At this, Francis laughed a little.

"Clearly you have yet to spend the winter season in the palace of Spades…" He muttered. "But here in Diamonds, we always celebrate the summer solstice. It isn't all celebration, there's lots of ceremony and preparation and things that go along with it, but it's still a great festival in Diamonds… it was fantastic this year, you would have loved it." He reached across the table to take Arthur's hand. "…I should probably dismiss these people soon, shouldn't I? They've all got to go home tomorrow morning."

"Have they…?" Arthur glanced around the table at the various unfamiliar faces. He had barely spoken to any of these people, save for Francis of course. He couldn't exactly say he would miss them. It wasn't as though they had been stealing Francis's attention or anything, quite the opposite, Francis had been kind enough to let him tag along for most of the day. When Francis gave him an introduction to someone he tried to be as polite as he could. Few people dodged his line of sight anymore, and some would even toss him a smile if their eyes met. He happened to catch the eye of a young woman in a green frock and grinned, earning a giggle and a wave. Arthur decided he liked these people. "That's a shame. Perhaps I'll get to spend a little more time with you though?"

"Yes, perhaps. I'll have work to do though, as of tomorrow." Francis leaned close enough to whisper, and Arthur moved closer to listen. "Shall we make the most of this one night of freedom?" Arthur froze in his seat.

_Say yes, say yes!_

"I-I…" Arthur paused. He had been thinking about it- oh, had he been thinking about it- but he would never have dreamed that Francis would make such an offer. It was scandalous, unthinkable! He was a married man, and of another kingdom… what would he do it Alfred found out? "…I don't see why not."

_Yes, to hell with Alfred._

"Excellent." Francis squeezed his hand before letting him tuck it back into his lap. He stood from is seat, making some grand statement that Arthur didn't understand a word of for his lack of knowledge about the language. The other dinner guests clapped, some cheered, but most started to make like they were ready to go to their rooms. Francis offered Arthur a hand up from his seat. For the first time he met eyes with one fiery looking blond who had been sitting to Francis's opposite side. Arthur could only assume that this was Francis's Jack, given the way they spoke to each other. If only he knew what the little man was saying. Whatever it was they were talking about, it didn't sound good, but Francis was quick to get himself out of it and lead Arthur away with the other guests.

"You'll have to forgive him." Francis glanced back. The man was staring at them. "That man there is Vash, my Jack… he's such a stick in the mud, everything has to be business with him."

"What did he want?"

"Oh, he was just asking about you." Francis slowed down a little when they were out of the dining room, his arm coming to rest around Arthur's shoulders. "I wouldn't worry too much if I were you. He isn't cruel, just a little prickly. Maybe tomorrow you can even get him to speak Spadian for you."

"Does he speak it?" Arthur glanced back. Vash was making a point of not looking at them. "Then why didn't he speak it just now?"

"He probably didn't want you to know what we were talking about." Francis led Arthur up a sweeping flight of stairs. "I wouldn't worry about it, it's nothing important… and besides, haven't we got more immediate things to think about?" He gave Arthur's shoulder a nudge. Arthur felt a little grin tug at his lips.

"Yes, of course." He sidled up close to Francis. "I was just curious… you have such a beautiful way of speaking you know, your language is truly lovely."

"Do you think so?" Francis quirked an eyebrow. "Mm… Peut-être, vous devriez apprendre à parler Diamant, mon petit chenille-tête..." Arthur didn't catch the way Francis struggled not to snicker.

"Absolutely lovely…" Arthur laid his head on Francis's shoulder. "I will have to learn what all of that means someday."

_I'm not sure you want to know what he just said to you dear…_

"Someday, yes." Francis led Arthur down a quiet hallway. The lights were a little dimmer here, though each little glass bulb still held a glowing coil inside. Arthur found himself staring at the glass baubles that lined the walls. He was so fixed on them that he nearly bumped into Francis a few times. They had stopped in front of a door, and Francis had produced a little silver key from some pocket.

"Is this your bedroom?" Arthur asked.

"Of course not." Francis fiddled with the key in its lock. "It's a guest bedroom, it's more private. We won't be disturbed here." The door creaked open to reveal a little bedroom not unlike the one Arthur had slept in the previous night. It had a nice bed, big enough for two, tall windows with cream-colored drapes, and glass light fixtures like the ones in the hall. Arthur stepped inside after Francis.

"It's a nice room." Arthur decided. "It's very pretty… I suppose everything in Diamonds is." He toed off his shoes by the door, and his stockings followed. Francis was already at the windows, pulling the drapes shut at each window and turning a little dial on the wall that dimmed the lights. Arthur watched with wide-eyed fascination. "Well, fancy that."

"Yes, Hearts does cultivate some brilliant minds." Francis chuckled, putting a foot up against the wall to undo his boot laces. "I think that something about soft light makes exploring a lover's body more… exciting." Arthur shuddered, and his eyes flit towards the bed. The covers had already been partially turned down. The pillows were propped up in just such a way that they appeared to be waiting for him. On the little side table he could see a little brown box and a vial of golden liquid. Arthur chewed at his lip, his hands folded behind his back. His gaze drifted down to the fine violet carpet beneath his feet.

"Are you alright?" Arthur blinked. Francis's small smile had disappeared. He put his foot down and took a step closer. "You look a little off… Are you having second thoughts?"

"Oh no, not at all!" Arthur quickly shook his head as if shaking away the very suggestion. "I just… I never thought that we would get this far, honestly…" His gaze again sunk to the ground. He cleared his throat quietly and started to tuck his hands behind his back, only to find Francis reaching for them.

"So you've been thinking about doing this with me then?" Francis chuckled. Arthur could practically feel the heat rushing to his cheeks.

"Wh- I… No! I mean, yes, but- b-but not like… er…n-not that I haven't been thinking about you, I mean, y-you're pretty hard to forget, but I haven't-"

"Arthur?" Arthur stopped. Francis had his arms around his waist. His hands were resting just above Arthur's own. Across his lips was a smile warm enough to melt away Arthur's defenses. He didn't realize that they had kissed until Francis had pulled away. "…you're quite unforgettable yourself, you know." He slid his hands up to the small of Arthur's back, and one slipped away. He helped Arthur into bed and climbed over him.

"Wh-what are you doing Francis?" Arthur watched with wide eyes. Francis said nothing at first, but he was already reaching for Arthur's vest.

"Undressing you." His voice was a whisper against Arthur's jaw. "I want to become acquainted with every inch of your lovely body…" His lips brushed against Arthur's neck and down his throat. Arthur could feel the catch in his breath gradually loosening as Francis slipped the vest off his shoulders.

"O-oh, I see…" Arthur murmured, his cheeks flushed red. Francis sat up to meet Arthur's eyes. There was that sweet smile again, and before Arthur could speak again he was silenced with a kiss. This time he let Francis fill his senses. His lips were soft, and still lightly flavored by the taste of wine. Francis let his hands wander over Arthur's chest, lean muscle and the mostly-faded scars from his little tumble off the cliff.

"Where is it?" Arthur's eyes flicked open. When had he closed them? Francis was looking at him expectantly, his smile mellowed somewhat.

"Wh-where's what?" Arthur frowned. He assumed that whatever Francis was referring to it was something blindingly obvious, but he could not for the life of him figure what it was. Francis's wandering hands had slowed to a stop. Arthur gulped, his gaze flitting around. "Uh… s-sorry, I don't know, um…"

"Your royal mark." Francis didn't bother being subtle in looking him over. "I haven't gotten to try it myself, but I have heard…" He caught sight of it when Arthur turned his head; it was on the back of his neck. Francis's grin returned when he saw it. He shifted so that he could press his lips to the precious inky blue Spade on the nape of Arthur's neck. Arthur gasped, tensed for a moment, then slowly relaxed. "…I have heard it's a nice place to touch when one makes love. Is it?"

"O-oh yes…" Arthur murmured. "It feels so nice, almost soothing…" He sighed. A calm smile spread across his lips. "I wish I would have known that sooner, it would have been useful so many times before…" He could hear Francis's gentle laughter close to his ear.

"Why, do you get stressed often?" Francis sat Arthur up and moved so that he could see Arthur's mark. It was a gorgeous crest, blue linework as dark as ink and thin as a spider's thread. He wasted no time bringing it to his lips. Arthur all but melted in his arms, though he was surprise that just kissing it drew a little moan from the Queen's throat.

"Yes, I find I have a knack for getting myself into… stressful situations." Arthur's eyes fluttered and his lips tugged into a lusty little grin. Francis held Arthur against his chest.

"That's unfortunate." He chuckled, smothering little kisses up his jaw and over his cheeks. "Although… I'm more than happy to help you relax, you know. In fact, it's my pleasure."

"Mine as well." Arthur giggled and sat up. The stuffy dress shirt had slid off his shoulders, exposing slender arms and alabaster skin, only occasionally broken by some old, faded wound. Francis was nonetheless pleased. His hand slid towards the back of Arthur's trousers. Arthur took his cue and undid the button, letting Francis tug them away.

"My my…" Francis caught himself smirking. He cupped his had around Arthur's rear. "You've been holding out on me, I didn't expect someone so thin to be so soft-bodied."

"Hush!" Arthur swatted at him, but his smile betrayed him. "Y-you haven't undressed yourself at all yet… you're still wearing your dinner clothes."

"Oh, so I am." Francis sat up. The buttons on his shirt were smaller, like little pearls, and while the wait was like torture Arthur found it was worth it; Francis had a physique that Arthur had only ever seen in sculptures before, every curve and crevice of muscle perfectly sculpted. He did nothing to keep himself from staring.

"So who's been holding out on who again?" he murmured. Francis glanced down at himself with a grin, but said nothing. He started on his own trousers. Again, Arthur had no trouble letting his eyes wander to rather shameful places.

"A-and you really said I'm the one who's holding out on you?" Francis dropped his and Arthur's clothes off the side of the bed. The Queen looked equal parts surprised and impressed. Francis only laughed.

"Not for much longer I won't be." He replied, reaching for the little vial of oil on the bedside table. "You're certain you still want to do this Arthur? I don't want you to regret this later…" Arthur frowned, but he did take the moment to think. He adored Francis, he was certain he did, but some small part of him was insisting that this was sort of wrong. After all, this was like a betrayal of his country, and his King…

"I'm certain." Arthur shoved all thoughts of his own King from his head. "Although, um… I have to warn you, this is the first time I've actually done this…" He bit his lip.

"What, really?" Francis frowned. "You didn't have to consummate after the wedding ceremony?"

"I-" Arthur stopped. He had completely forgotten about that.

_I hadn't. It was a lot of fun on my end, the boy King was as much a virgin as you are Arthur…_

"I-I'm not sure I really counted that…" Arthur lowered his head. "I mean, we did, a-and it wasn't bad… it wasn't awful, b-but that wasn't exactly… consensual."

"Ah, I see." Francis seemed to cringe. "You poor thing, I detest those traditions of Spades... I'll do all I can to make sure you enjoy yourself tonight." He put on a smile and leant in to steal a kiss off of Arthur's lips. "Let me know if I can make you more comfortable." Arthur sat speechless, eyes wide open even through the duration of the kiss. He looked at Francis when he pulled away.

"Thank you." Arthur smiled meekly.

"Don't thank me." Francis tucked a finger into Arthur's underwear and slipped them away. "It's the least I can do for the one I love…"

/ \

Arthur cried out, digging his fingers into the silky bed sheets. Francis had one of his legs over his shoulder. His hands gripped Arthur's hips, and his nails dug slightly into his skin. Arthur wouldn't complain though. After all, he was practically clawing at Francis just so he could keep his grip.

"F-Francis!" He screamed his name. He could feel Francis inside him, ramming the one little spot that always made him see stars. He was relentless once they got started, and Arthur only egged him on. "Yes, oh god yes, h-harder Francis, harder!"

"O-oui!" Francis grunted, replacing his grip back on Arthur's hips. Arthur knew that he wouldn't be able to last much longer. Francis was good at making him feel amazing, and the pleasure was steadily filling him up like a glass about to overflow.

"Yes, yes, right there! Francis, oh~ O-oh my god, Francis, I-I'm going to-" Arthur sucked in a gasp, his mouth gaping open in a silent scream of utter bliss. He felt like he had just exploded, and the sticky fluid across his stomach made him feel he had. Francis pulled out just as he had started to catch his breath, spreading the warmth lower on Arthur's body.

"Je suis désolé…" he murmured, struggling to catch his own breath. Arthur let himself go limp against the bed. He reveled in his afterglow, listening to the little sounds Francis made as he moved about the bed. Something touched his stomach and he cracked an eye open, only to find Francis wiping him down with a handkerchief. "It seems that we, ah… made a bit of a mess." He laughed, and Arthur found himself laughing with him.

"Yes…" Arthur sighed and rest his head back against the sheets. "But it was worth it… y-you were just great Francis, just… absolutely fantastic."

"Merci beaucoup." Francis dropped the soiled cloth onto the bedside table. "I'm glad the feeling was mutual. You were so vocal, it was heavenly, I just adored hearing you say my name like that." He pulled the heavy covers up and tucked himself and Arthur underneath, letting him cuddle right up. Again Arthur let himself be blind to whatever Francis was doing. He didn't care much anymore, so long as Francis stayed there and let him stay close, but he did open one eye when he caught the soft scent of smoke.

"Wh-what is that?" He frowned. Francis glanced over, plucking a cigarette from his lips and blew a puff of smoke in the opposite direction.

"I like to have one afterwards, helps me unwind… would you like to try?" Arthur watched the little tendril of smoke rising from the end, and the fading cloud Francis left in the air.

"I suppose there's no harm in it." He heaved himself up against the pillows. Francis held it to his lips. Arthur helped himself to a drag. His eyes flew wide open and he shoved Francis's hand away, coughing like mad.

"You aren't supposed to suck it in like that you know." Francis snickered. He gave Arthur a moment or two to cough it all out before he took another drag and snuffed it out in a little glass dish. "It's a beginner's mistake, you'll learn in time…"

"N-not sure I'm going to give myself time…" Arthur gave a few final hacking coughs before he laid back down, thoroughly shaken by the experience. "That tasted awful, how can you stand those things? Ugh…" He scooped up a bit of the blanket to cover his nose. Francis shrugged and wrapped an arm around him.

"You sort of stop thinking about the taste." He muttered. "It's not the sort of thing you do for the taste anyway. You do it to wash the taste of the world out of your mouth… you'll understand someday."

"I don't think I will." Arthur crinkled his nose, though it was still hidden beneath the blankets. Francis just smiled and rolled over to face him.

"That's alright." He yawned and draped an arm over Arthur. "Let's not think of it now… it's time to rest. I'm sure you're tired, and I know I will be if I don't get some sleep tonight." He buried his face into the crook of Arthur's neck. Arthur reached back around for a sort of hug.

"What, no goodnight kiss?" he mumbled. Francis said nothing, only heaving himself up and leaning around to kiss Arthur. It was a little victory, at least until that awful taste settled on his lips. "Ugh, y-you taste like the smoke…" Francis chuckled.

"Je suis désolé, mon ange…" he whispered. "Just one on the cheek then." He placed another kiss to Arthur's cheek and laid back down. "Je t'aime Arthur…"

"…I love you Francis." Arthur mumbled, rolling over to face him. Francis only muttered some small response before he fell silent. Arthur shut his eyes and, within a few minutes, he too drifted off to sleep.

\ /

Arthur took his time rousing himself from sleep in the morning. The bed was warm, the covers were soft, and he was lying in just such a position that he was perfectly comfortable. He only cracked his eye open to see if Francis was still asleep. If he was, Arthur couldn't tell; Francis was gone. He sat straight up, holding the covers in place to cover his body. Francis stood a few feet from the foot of the bed. He looked back when Arthur sat up.

"Bonjour Arthur." He grinned. By the looks of it, he was about half-dressed. "I'm sorry if I woke you. I had intended to leave earlier, but you just looked so peaceful."

"Wh-what do you mean?" Arthur didn't even try to smile. He clutched the blankets in his hands. "Why do you have to leave, wh-where are you going?" Francis looked surprised.

"I've got work to do." He took a seat at the foot of the bed to pull on his stockings. "The festival is over, all of my guests are going home. I've got business to attend to, people to see, letters to go through…" Arthur blinked, reaching over the side of the bed for his own things.

"I've got to come with you then."

"Absolutely not!" Francis looked taken aback.

"Why?"

"_Why?!_" Arthur looked up. Horror shone through Francis's normally calm features, but he was quick to hide it. He pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved a sigh. "Why… Arthur, I'm the King of Diamonds."

"Yes."

"And you're the Queen of Spades."

"All the more reason I should come with you!"

"Arthur, no, you don't understand." Francis struggled to fight back a scowl. "Even though you are my guest, and I adore having you here, our countries are still sworn enemies. For all we know, this could all be some… elaborate feat of espionage or something." Now Arthur was the one stricken with horror.

"Francis, I would never-"

"I know you would never do that." Francis was quick to cut him short. "I know, and I trust you, but my people do not. To them, you aren't my sweet and lovely Arthur; you're the Queen of their most loathsome enemy. The fact that you're even here might not sit well with them." Arthur lowered his head, withering where he sat. Of course, he was still in the country of his enemies.

"R-right…" he mumbled. "I-I'm sorry… I suppose I just forgot about that, h-how our countries don't get along…" How could he think about that? It had been a long time since he had been in Spades, and he never had learned much about its political history. He heard Francis sigh and within a moment there was a hand on his shoulder, and another tilting up his chin.

"As long as you are here, you are my guest." He said softly. "I will find somewhere for you to stay until my work is done, but you cannot come with me to the court. My country must come first."

"I understand." Arthur forced a small smile. "I-I'm sure there's something else I can do today… have you got a library, perhaps? I could occupy myself there for hours."

"No." Arthur's smile dropped, but Francis had on a small grin. "I know where you can go. I'll introduce you to somebody… ah, you'll have to get dressed first." Arthur looked down. Of course, he was still buck-naked. He scrambled to scrape together his clothing and dress himself, his face flushed pink.

Within a few minutes they had left the little room for the hallway. Francis had long since learned his way around the labyrinth of halls that made up the palace. Arthur let his eyes wander about the paintings again, taking each one in as if it were a window to a more beautiful place.

"How can you stand to live surrounded by art without stopping to look at every piece?" Arthur murmured caught up on a particularly nice piece overlooking a cottage by the sea. It reminded him of his old home.

"I don't see how people in Spades can stand to live not surrounded by art." Francis chuckled and pulled Arthur along. "We've got lots of artists from Diamonds here, and some even from Clubs. Admittedly it was mostly me and the previous Queen who bought up most of this art."

"Really?" Arthur jogged a bit to catch up. "You got to meet the previous Queen of Diamonds? Who was she, what was she like?" Francis looked back at him. He slowed down a little for Arthur to catch up, but he didn't stop until they reached one portrait in particular.

"Here she is." He smiled up at it. The painting featured a beautiful young woman with rosy lips and caramel curls that framed her face. Her green eyes seemed to rest on some distant, unseen wonder, and something truly wonderful it must have been to make a woman like herself smile. "Her name was Elise the First… she let me call her Lisa when I was younger, but in her last few years I took to calling her 'miss'. I don't think she liked it very much." Francis took a few steps closer to the painting and ran his fingers along the edge of its frame. Not a single speck of dust coated its surface.

"What happened to her?" Arthur was still staring at her face. If he didn't know better he might have hoped to catch her eye and earn himself a smile. "She looks so young, not much younger than you really."

"Younger than me?" Francis looked back at him, eyebrows raised. "She was several years older than me actually. I believe that she was about twenty when I was brought here to the palace, at around the time this was painted."

"How old were you then?"

"Oh, I was about six years old."

"Six years old?!" Arthur nearly shouted. "They let you take the throne when you were six years old?!" Francis grinned.

"She and the Jack at the time took care of the work for me. I don't think anyone expected me to be so young, but I don't think they cared much about my age. They were so desperate to fill the position of King that they nearly forgot to tell my parents that they were taking me."

"What?" Arthur frowned and stood at Francis's side. "How could they do that? Tell me, will you?"

"It's not the most exciting story, but if you insist." Francis placed his arm around Arthur's shoulders. "It was a long time ago, seventeen years ago, in the summertime…"

/ \

_A young Francis lay in the back of a cart bound for the city, staring upwards at the great gate as it passed over his head. He waved to the guards around and on top of it, and to his delight one of them waved back. He sat up and looked around. The streets were lined with shops that sold all sorts of things, from pretty dresses to toys to sweets to other things he had never seen before. Children played in the streets, some reined in by their parents, playing with toys or chasing each other, or in some lucky cases a small dog or other pet. Francis sat up on his knees to get a better look._

"_Francis, s'asseoir." His father called to him from the driver's seat. Francis pouted but, as his father told him, flounced back down into the cart._

"_Oui papa." he mumbled. He didn't exactly enjoy being cooped up in the back of the cart for hours and hours, but it was preferable to walking. He scooted up to the side of the cart and leaned on it, arms crossed under his head. There really wasn't much for him to do at the market. He couldn't go far, his father wouldn't let him, and while plenty of the merchants had children most of them were old enough to help run the stands. He only came because his mother didn't want him underfoot around the house. He huffed a sigh and stared around the bustling streets. They rounded a few corners, even going through the town square. At its center, rather than some tent or table belonging to the palace, a pedestal sat. He couldn't tell what was on it from so far away, but whatever it was it gleamed in the sunlight, and a few people were watching those brave enough to approach it. They would always withdraw their hands afterwards, spouting words that Francis had never heard before save for when his father got angry at one of the tools. He giggled and stood to watch another man step forward towards the pedestal, only to hurry away, cursing and clutching his hand._

"_Francis, s'asseoir!" His father had raised his voice. Again Francis sat, more reluctant than before._

"_Oui papa…" he muttered. The sparkling object still beckoned to him though. They weren't far from the next street corner before he had made his decision; he had to find out what it was. When his father was next distracted he leapt from the cart, across the road, and into the square. It wasn't hard to slip past the people surrounding the pedestal, though there did seem to be a line. Without a moment's hesitation he reached up and snatched the odd little object off of the pedestal. People around him gasped in surprise but he barely listened. He opened his hands and there, sitting between his palms, was a shining golden rose, warmed by the sun enough to heat his fingers. He smiled down at it, and his face reflected on each petal. Suddenly the light disappeared. He looked up to find three large palace guards standing around him, cornering him against the pedestal. In that moment, he remembered just how tiny he was, how easily these men could crush him like a grape beneath their iron boots. He gulped, clutching the flower to his chest. "…b-bonjour?" He took a few small steps back. There wasn't anywhere to go. Through the spaces between the men he could see people staring at him but not a one looked like they would help him. How he was going to get out of this, he wasn't sure, but he was sure that he would do it with the rose intact if he could do it; he wanted the rose!_

"_Qu'est ce c'est?" A new voice spoke up above the others. Francis looked into the crowds, hopeful of what he would see, but it didn't look like anyone had stepped forwards. Something touched his hair and he looked up. It was a woman, at least twice his age. She stood silhouetted against the sun, he could make out a pair of bright eyes fixed down on him, ruby lips tugged down in a small frown, and lightly rouged cheeks. For a moment or two she spoke with the guards. Her words were blocked out by the sweet sound of her voice, like listening to birdsong. When she finished speaking she knelt down to Francis's eye level. Her caramel curls bounced as she moved and the look in her eyes had gone from confused to curious. _

"_Comment tu t'appelle, mon petit?" she asked. Francis stared, dumbfounded. Whatever he had done to earn her attention must have been truly magnificent, he realized. He glanced down at his hands. The rose caught the light through whatever little cracks and passages it would go. Slowly he held it out, offering it to the woman._

"_P-pour vous madame?" He flicked his gaze to the ground. His father had always told him to be kind to ladies. Silence fell over the square for a long moment before the young woman started to laugh. Francis felt her soft hand against his head and he looked up. She was smiling at him, but she didn't take the rose away. She merely stood, speaking again to the guards. To Francis's surprise they stepped back. The people around the square whispered and murmured, pointing to him and his rose. Francis stuck close to the woman's legs, clutching her skirts the way he did his own mother's. A few people cooed over his 'precious' behavior, but this merely prompted him to hide his face in the lacy, pink ruffles. Her cool hand shielded him from their words, harsh or otherwise. Only for her would he look up again._

"_Je m'appelle Lisa." She whispered, giving him a smile. Francis stared a moment or two before he dared to speak up._

"_J-je m'appelle… Francis." He murmured._

"_Francis?" He shivered. Her voice made it sound all the sweeter. "Ah, c'est beau." Francis felt a strange heat rushing to his cheeks. He hid his face again and she laughed, patting him on the head. "We're here…"_

"Pardon?"

"I said we're here." Arthur looked around. They had stopped in front of a white door with a bright brass handle. If one looked very close, a small, long-petaled flower was engraved on the knob. "This is where I hope I'll be able to leave you for most of the day."

"What is this, some sort of daycare?" Arthur frowned. Francis shook his head.

"Quite the opposite actually…" He put on a smile. "This is my Queen's bedroom."


	8. Checkmate

Ch. 8

Arthur stood dumbfounded, staring Francis in the eye. "Y-your Queen?" He gulped. Not the response he expected, nor exactly what he had hoped to hear.

"Oui, that's right. This is Lily's bedroom." Francis let no such worry show. In fact, he looked quite pleased with himself. "You will remain with her for the larger part of the day. She's a very sweet young lady, I'm sure you two will get along. She likes to play chess."

"H-hold on a moment." Francis paused, his hand hovering barely an inch from the doorknob. "Are you sure this is alright? I mean, shouldn't she be with you at whatever you're going to? And even if she isn't, is it alright for me to just sit with the Queen all day? That's not against any strange rules or anything?"

_One would almost think you didn't want to meet this young lady, Arthur…_

"No rules that I know of." Francis again reached for the door. "I think she'll enjoy the company actually, she does get lonely. Oh, and keep your voice down at first, she might still be asleep." Before Arthur could question him Francis opened the door, pushing it slowly to keep down the creaking. The room was dark, though a soft light shone through the curtains, giving the room a warm glow. Everything was colored gold, violet, or ivory, from the long damask curtains over the high windows, to the dress on each doll or the bowtie on each bear, to the sparkling golden canopy over the bed. Arthur caught sight of Francis as his eyes wandered the room, and he was certain that it was rare to see him so happy. The King was cautiously tip-toeing around the toys that littered the floor. When he reached her bedside he knelt down and gave her shoulder a nudge.

"Lily?" he whispered. "Lily, mon ange, ma poupée, ma petite, c'est le matin…" Slowly the small lump under the covers shifted. Slender arms stretched in the air, little fingers reached towards the sky, and a pair of cerulean eye peeked out from over a pink button nose. The little form sat itself up. She yawned, running a hand through her long, blonde hair and smoothing it down her back. Francis hadn't been lying when he called her a lovely young lady. She smiled when she saw him and tugged at the short sleeves of her nightdress.

"Bonjour Francis…" Her small voice was like a tinkling bell. Francis beamed at her and opened his arms. She practically collapsed onto him, but her arms fell around his neck, and his around her back.

"As-tu bon dormir?"

"Oui." Francis nodded and, after another moment or so, helped her back into bed. She propped herself up against a small heap of pillows. Her sleepy gaze finally found Arthur and she stared a while, then looked to Francis. "Qui est-il?" Francis beckoned Arthur closer. Arthur felt as if he were stuck in his place, but their friendly smiles beckoned him nearer and he forced his feet to move. He sank to his knees beside the bed, and a little behind Francis.

"Lily," Francis begun "this man is Arthur, Queen of Spades. Can you… er, peux-tu protéger il?" He placed his hands over hers, but she nodded before he had a chance to convince her.

"Oui." She looked to Arthur and offered him her hand. "My name is Lily."

"So I've heard." Arthur chuckled and shook it. It felt so small and fragile in his own. "I must say, you're every bit as sweet at Francis makes you out to be." She giggled and tucked her hands back into her lap.

"Merci." She bowed her head slightly. "Tu as ma protection."

"Protection?" Arthur chuckled. Was it something like a blessing, perhaps? A Diamond custom he wasn't aware of? "Well… I suppose you've got mine too then, miss Lily." Lily only laughed.

"Lily?" Francis spoke up again. He was standing now. "Are you going to be alright here for the day? You know who to ask for if you need me or your brother?"

"Of course." Lily looked up at him and blew a kiss. "Give that to him for me?"

"I will, I will." Francis pretended to catch the kiss in his hands, a great dopey smile on his face as he started towards the door. "I'll see the two of you later."

"Goodbye!" Arthur sat up a bit. Lily waved goodbye, Francis waved back, and with that he was out the door, blown kiss in hand. Arthur sighed. Some part of him desperately wanted Francis to come back through that door, but he knew it would be a while, hours even, before he returned. How he would make it through all that time, he had no idea.

"The two of you were awfully loud last night." Arthur froze. He turned to face Lily. Her sweet smile was still in place, and her bright eyes hadn't left his yet. He stared back, plastering a grin to his own expression as he tried to think of a response.

_Goodness, how will you get yourself out of this one Arthur?_

"…yes!" He forced himself to laugh. "Ah, l-last night… Francis and I were, um, we were just… playing a uh, grown-up game… for grown-ups… i-it was a close game."

"You don't have to put it like that." She sat up in bed and folded her hands in her lap. "I'm not a little child like Francis thinks I am. I'm twelve years old." Arthur frowned.

_My my, isn't she progressive for her age?_

Arthur tried not to snap back at the demon. "…yes." he muttered. It was all he could think to say. Lily merely shrugged.

"He usually isn't so happy in the morning, especially when he has work." She grinned. "He must like you a lot."

"…y-yes." Arthur turned to clear his throat.

_Right on the money, isn't she? I hope she knows that the feeling is mutual…_

"So your name is Arthur?" He looked up.

"Oh, yes, it is." He forced a smile. "Arthur, Queen of Spades, that's me."

"I know." She replied, and with that she slipped down from the bed and stood before him. When he knelt, she was about his height. "Do you play chess, Arthur, Queen of Spades?"

"Chess?" He stood. "Well… I believe I have, once or twice. Would you like to play chess Lily?" She nodded and pointed across the room. A small table sat across the room, set up with four chairs. Sitting across from each other were a red-haired ragdoll and a fine stuffed bear, but the remaining two seats were vacant. Arthur sat himself in the larger of the two- in which his knees didn't quite reach the underside of the table- and Lily sat opposite him.

"White moves first." Arthur looked down. His side of the board was lined with a set of fine ivory pieces carved into the shapes of little people.

"This is a lovely chess set." He leaned in a little, looking over all of his pieces carefully. The queen struck him as especially lovely, with a tiny smile across her lips and fingers no thicker than his own fingernail. "Such tiny details… wherever did it come from, may I ask?"

"It was a birthday gift from Francis a few years ago." She sat up, holding up one of her bishops for him to see. His tiny face was made to be a perpetual scowl. "They were made to look like the nobility from a while ago. Yours are the Diamonds, mine are the Spades, I think. This one is Yao, the Jack, right?"

"Oh, yes!" Arthur moved closer. Sure enough, the little figure had Yao's little ponytail and his tiny hands. "How funny, he looks so cross… but I don't recognize any of the others, he must have been Jack for a long time."

"Oui, he's very old." Lily giggled and set her piece back down. "White moves first."

"Oh, of course." Arthur glanced around his pieces. The little pawns were made to look like knights, and though they all held the same pose and shield there were minor variances in each one. Not so on Lily's set. He nudged his sixth pawn forwards a single space. "Your move, miss Lily." She nodded, looking her pieces over carefully.

"You must not play this game often." She giggled and moved her fourth pawn two spaces.

"Oh?" Arthur chuckled. He picked up another pawn and had it go two spaces, as if it were trying to match Lily's. "What makes you say that? I think I've got a chance at winning yet, we aren't far through this game."

"No, not really. You just aren't terribly skilled." She shrugged and reached for her queen, moving it the only way it would go. "Checkmate." Arthur stared at the board, wide-eyed.

"H-hold on a moment!" He sputtered, his gaze flicking from king to queen to traitorous little knights, having set up a path for the enemy as they did. Sure enough, Arthur had nowhere to move his king where it could hide from Lily's queen. "…y-you are quite good at this." Lily nodded, taking the pieces and setting them back in place.

"Another game?" She gestured across the board. "My brother says that chess is good for tacticians like us. I've never lost before." Arthur glanced up at her.

_Why the hesitation? You are a Queen, you're not going to let this little girl trample your strategic prowess, are you?_

"…why not?" Arthur forced a smile. He didn't like the thought of being beaten by someone who was barely more than half his age. "I suppose I should be keeping myself sharp, I admit I'm falling a bit short in that department… I haven't been doing many ah, tactical things."

"I would take that as a good sign." He looked up. Lily had her hands folded on the table. "Times aren't always so peaceful you know. When I was little things weren't as nice as they are now."

"Is that so?" Arthur absently moved a pawn forwards. He barely cared which one.

"Oui… my brother and I came with our parents to Diamonds when we were very young. He says he wasn't much younger than me, I think, and I was just a baby. Mama and papa were running away from Clubs, things really aren't very good there… your turn."

"I see, that's unfortunate." Arthur paused a moment. "I was on my way to Clubs a while ago."

"Why?" He glanced up. Lily still smiled, but she looked a bit surprised.

"What do you mean?" He frowned. "We were going there to try and make peace, I think. There was some sort of war a while back between the Spades and the Clubs, that's what they've told me, and apparently they want to make peace now. I think it sounds like a good idea."

"Why?" Lily's smile was still present. She took another turn, and Arthur moved one of his pawns out of a loss for what more to do.

"In my experience friends are far more valuable than enemies. I assumed that Spades and Clubs had just realized the same thing. I mean, the Clubs have a new King or something, don't they?" Arthur glanced up. Lily shrugged, and he didn't see which piece she moved.

"I suppose." She looked over at him. "But they're awfully quick to make up again; it hasn't been very long since they stopped fighting. My brother says that they're sort of like bickering children…"

"Does he?" Arthur chuckled. "Well, I wouldn't know. I don't know an awful lot about politics or things like that."

"Why not?"

"I didn't have much time to learn." Arthur's gaze sank to his feet. It was embarrassing really, especially when he thought about the dozens of crusty elder men back in Spades who probably knew more about his own country than he did. "But I don't suppose it matters anyway. I mean, from what I've heard the Queen just handles warlike pursuits, and there is no war now, so… I suppose I'm not so important." Maybe it was good that he wasn't back in Spades after all.

"No…" Arthur looked up. Lily was shaking her head, her eyes shut. "We are important… you never really know when things are going to turn, which is why you have to remain sharp."

"I suppose you're right, but I'm not really-"

"Checkmate."

"Pardon?"

"Checkmate."

"…oh, hell!" Arthur scowled at the board. Sure enough, the young lady had beaten him again. She giggled, starting to set the board back up again. "I'll not let you win the next game."

"That's okay." She sat up, waiting for Arthur to make his first move. "You don't have to let me. I'm able to take my victories as I like them."

/ \

Several games- and several losses, for Arthur- later, they were still sitting at the table. Arthur barely noticed the passage of time. It had to be past noon by the time he realized that he was nibbling a small sandwich that had been brought in at some point, along with a small cart of tea and little snacks. Lily was carefully planning out her next move and enjoying a small pastry, and she was just biting off the pecan on top when Arthur spoke up.

"Lily?" She looked at him. "Where did this food come from?" She held up a single finger, a gesture of 'hold one moment please,' and swallowed the nut.

"The kitchen." She set her little treat down on a napkin. "All the food here comes from the kitchen."

"Well yes, of course, but… never mind."

_No point in arguing on this really, nothing much to argue..._

"It's tea time, I got hungry." She shrugged. "And I didn't eat breakfast, so I sent for something."

"Tea time?" Arthur frowned and glanced out the window. The sun was much higher in the sky than it had been what seemed like a short time ago. "…may I go look for Francis?"

"I think he wanted you to stay here until he came and got you."

"I know, but… he's been gone an awfully long time now." He scowled. The way she said it made it sound like she was babysitting him. "I want to see him, I'm going to go find him."

_Are you sure that's perfectly safe dear? You don't know your way around very well…_

"I'll find my way around!" He started towards the door. Lily made no move to stop him, merely frowning as he walked away and shutting the door behind him.

Arthur strode confidently through the labyrinthine halls of the Diamond palace at first, peering through open doors when he came across them and asking any servants he saw if they could speak his language. Most would just mutter something like 'putain' at him and point him in some direction, sometimes even contradicting each other. All the same he followed their instructions, growing wearier with each passing step. Where in the world was Francis?

_Perhaps he's hiding from you, Arthur._

"H-he wouldn't do that…" Arthur scowled and stared at his feet. He was sure Francis wouldn't really hide from him, not without a reason. He couldn't see a single reason for making him walk around the palace for who knew so long. He didn't even know where Lily's room was anymore. "Who needs a palace this big anyways?"

_People who like to show off, That's how these rich people are, it's like an ultra-expensive pissing contest._

"Hush…" Arthur shook his head. "This place is too big, I'm getting lost…"

_I told you so!_

"Shut up!" Arthur sped up a little. Identical halls blurred past him, dozens of doors lined up just so, paintings on the walls all becoming a single, distant panorama. The more he walked, the less it made sense. "Wh-what sort of person lives in a place this big?!"

_Someone with enough servants to maintain it, I suppose… but I see you're getting lost._

"Sh-shut up!"

_Maybe you'll never find Francis. Maybe you'll just wander here forever, or until you starve and die and leave your body to rot…_

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Arthur tugged at his hair. Everything looked the same. The halls were nearly vacant, the windows stood high over him, displaying views of the outside of the palace and the extensive gardens beyond, or the high stone walls that surrounded the palace from the outside. It all made him feel like he was inside a great cage, a little bird with broken wings. The sun shone in his eyes. He stopped by one of the windows to catch his breath. He hadn't even realized that walking around the palace would tire him out like it did.

_Well, I'm sure that Francis has got to be around… unless he is hiding from you._

"S-shut up…" Arthur blinked a few times. Tears were prickling his eyes. "Why would he do that? H-he wouldn't… he wouldn't hide from me, h-he loves me… Why would he hide anything from me if he loved me?"

_I wonder if Alfred said the same thing about you?_

A far-away voice snapped Arthur from his daze. He looked up. A door down the hallway hung slightly ajar. He staggered against the wall but slowly made his way over to it, his steps silent like the footfall of a cat. It was an office of sorts, with windows impossibly opposite the ones to Arthur's back. Bookshelves covered the nearest wall, but the others were decorated with lovely paintings and sculpted glass light fixtures. An ornate desk sat centered from the door, and behind it sat a single figure. Two others stood before the desk.

"I am most certain that his presence here is neither a hindrance nor a danger to us." This voice was certainly familiar, Arthur knew it to be Francis's. "If anything, he may only harm himself."

"Himself?!" Arthur frowned. He was sure he had heard this voice before. A peek inside revealed that the speaker was the man who had been sitting beside Francis at their supper the previous night. What had his name been, Vash? "He might not harm us, but his being here is upsetting the people. You saw what they did when they found out you would be going to the wedding, to have him here now is madness. When word starts to get out, there will be chaos! You don't even know why he's here!"

"The reason he's here is not so important as is getting him back home." This voice was only vaguely familiar. Again Arthur peered inside. This was a tall, lean man, with dark hair that hung to his shoulders and a hollow look to his face. He was sure he knew this man's name, but from where Arthur couldn't say. "They think him dead back in Spades, and it's only a matter of time before people find out where he's been. They won't know how long he's been here, for all they know the whole thing was a staged kidnapping… that's what the King is telling them."

"What do you mean?" Francis sounded concerned with this mystery subject. "What has he been telling the people?"

"The King has told everyone that they were stopped by bandits on their way to Clubs." There was the strange voice again. "They were forced to leave their carriage, some skirmish occurred, and the poor creature was hurled off a cliff. Surely the reason he's here isn't as significant as getting him back?"

"Of course it's important!" Vash shouted, and something thumped loudly- presumably his fist. "I don't believe for one second that they were stopped by anything. This whole thing is a trap and we're falling right into it, as soon as they come to retrieve him-"

"They would not think of doing any such thing." Francis was utterly unconcerned. "It would be suicide for them to try and attack once they come so deep into our own lands. Manus, I believe we reached an arrangement, tell them our ransom price and have them bring the gold when they come to take him away again."

"They insist that the ransom is too high…"

"Then remind them the value of the life we hold!" Vash sounded like he was about to blow. "It's not as if they can just… just not have him back! Tell them they will pay or they will not have him back in one piece!"

"Vash!" A chair scraped along the ground; Francis had stood up. "That was uncalled for. We will not harm him… but we will not lower the ransom either. I'm sure you understand, Manus, my people just wouldn't have it…"

"Of course, of course, they don't want the great King Francis going soft on his enemies… I will deliver the message as soon as I can."

"Thank you Manus." Francis sighed. "It's settled then… the ransom will be paid in full, the King will come here with his guards for the transaction, and Arthur will be sent back to Spades."

"_What?!_" Arthur shrieked. The room fell silent.

_Good god, you truly are an imbecile, aren't you?_

Arthur regretted his outburst the moment the words left his throat, but the thought of returning to Spades sickened him more than any punishment he could imagine. He could hear footsteps from inside the room slowly growing nearer to the door.

"Oh… oh god, no…" The words trickled forth like drops of blood from the lips of the sick. He covered his mouth with both hands. "No, no, please no…" He stuck his back to the wall. From around the door frame a pale, shadowy face appeared, shaded slightly by wisps of mousy hair. Dark eyes fixed on Arthur. Dark, but gentle.

"It would seem that our private talk has garnered an audience…" Manus chuckled and took Arthur by the arm, leading him into the little room. Arthur couldn't fight him. Vash and Francis stared, stunned to silence. Manus shut the door soundly behind them. Arthur stood like a deer in the headlights, his eyes flicking back and forth between the Jack and King of Diamonds.

"How dare you!" Vash was the first to speak up. His surprise had quickly turned to rage. "You little rat, you've been listening in on us. Didn't I tell you Francis, didn't I tell you that he couldn't be trusted?!" He started towards Arthur but stopped just inches away. "What did you hear? What were you _trying_ to hear? I swear, if you've been spying on us they'll have to send your remains back to Spades in a soup tin!"

"Vash!" Francis scowled at him, though he tried to calm himself when he saw the look on Arthur's face. Poor Arthur was gone white as a sheet, his hands shaking and clutched close to his chest. His mouth hung open slight. His eyes brimmed over with terrified tears. Francis walked around the desk. Arthur tried to back away but Manus stood behind him, keeping him from a hasty escape.

"Francis, I… I-I'm sorry…" Arthur gulped. "I-I didn't mean to overhear anything… please, please don't sent me back t-to Spades…"

"Why shouldn't we?" Vash sneered. Francis shot him a look but it went unacknowledged. "That's where you belong, Spade Queen. You've got your own country to ruin, and we've got every reason to want you out of ours!"

"Vash!" Francis might have scolded him if he weren't so worried about Arthur. "Arthur, it isn't like that at all." It took Manus's strength just to keep Arthur on his feet, he looked about ready to be sick."

"F-Francis, you can't send me to Spades. I can't go back there!"

"Arthur, please listen…" Francis placed his hands on each of Arthur's shoulders. "I told you that you would have to go back… you can't stay here forever. Spades and Diamonds are sworn enemies, and I've upset a lot of people by even allowing you to stay here with me. I must put my country first; the sooner you're back in Spades, the easier things will be for everyone."

"No, no, y-you don't understand!" Arthur tore himself from Manus's arms. "I can't go back, I can't! Alfred would never let me back-"

"The King of Spades has been negotiating with us for your safe return." Vash spoke up. "He will be here within the week."

"_NO!_" Arthur grabbed Francis by his shirtfront. "I can't go back, Francis, you've got to stop this!"

"Arthur, there's nothing I can do about it now." He sighed and reached to take Arthur's hands. "If all goes according to plan, the King of Spades should be on his way by train as soon as they accept to pay the ransom, there isn't any—Ow!" Without warning Francis pulled away.

"What is it?" Vash looked back and forth between the two of them. "What's the matter?"

"Ow, ow…" Francis rubbed his palms. "Arthur, your hands are burning up…"

"Wh-what?!" Arthur stared down at his hands. Sure enough he could feel the heat spreading through his core and into his palms, just the way it had so long ago at the little inn room with his own King.

_Dear me…_

"…not again."

"Again?" Francis frowned. "Wh… has this happened before?" Arthur looked up at him. To say that Arthur had been afraid before would be to understate the utter horror that showed in his eyes now. "…Arthur? What's the matter?"

"F-Francis, I… I-I…" Arthur tried to back away, but Manus still stood behind him. The man looked more surprised than worried. "I-I'm sorry, Francis, I'm so sorry, I… I-I need to go."

"What?" Francis straightened up. Arthur was stumbling his way back to the door, fumbling with the door latch. Francis was quick to follow him. "Arthur, hold on, what is it? What's wrong with your hands?"

"L-let go of me, let go!" Arthur whimpered, shoving his weight against the door. "It will happen again, it can't… c-can't let it happen again…"

"What will?" Francis moved closer. "Please, Arthur, talk to me!" He reached to take Arthur by the wrist. Arthur fought to have it back but Francis's grip was like a steel clamp. "Arthur, tell me what's the matter!"

"Don't touch me!" Arthur shoved his hands against Francis. Francis yelped in pain and backed away.

"Ow, Arthur, what-" As he looked up, Francis fell silent. In each of Arthur's hands sat a small flame, quivering meekly but still very much there. Arthur showed no sign of pain. Francis and the others merely stared on in surprise. "Arthur…?" In an instant the door was open. Arthur didn't even know when he had turned the knob, nor did anyone else, but as soon as the door swung open he was gone. The labyrinth of halls wouldn't slow him anymore. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, trying to force the flames to quench. He tried to close his hands but the fire would return when he opened them again. Shaking it away would only result in something catching on fire, and that was the opposite of what he wanted.

"C-come on, go out, go out!" he growled.

"Arthur!" Arthur looked back. Francis was running after him, and catching up quickly. Arthur nearly tripped over himself before he focused his efforts back on running away. "Arthur, wait! Arthur!"

"Stay away from me!" Arthur rounded a corner. Francis was just a few seconds behind him. "I-I'm sorry, I-I'm so sorry! I can't control it!"

"Arthur, slow down, you'll hurt yourself!" Again Arthur nearly tripped over a bump in the carpet. Francis gained a few more inches on him. "Please, don't run away—Arthur! Arthur, stop!"

"Leave me alone!" Arthur looked over his shoulder at him. Francis was much closer than he'd thought. "I don't want to hurt you!"

"You're going to hurt yourself if you don't-" Francis didn't get the time to finish. Before Arthur realized what was happening he had slipped two steps down a flight of stairs he hadn't even seen. He reached out to grab the railing, the wall, anything to keep from falling again- and Francis barely caught him by the hand. The little flames flickered out. If Arthur had been standing on his own, he would have collapsed. Francis pulled him back up to the top of the stairs. Arthur seemed dazed for a little while. He didn't fight Francis when he was at the top again, and he did nothing to stop Francis from guiding him away from the stairs. Not for a few steps at least. He yanked himself away, eyes flitting every which-way seeking some threat.

"F-Francis…" His voice was barely a whisper. "I'm sorry… god, I'm so sorry, Francis…" Arthur fell to his knees. He clasped his hands together and held them like a beggar. "I-I'm sorry… sorry, sorry, s-sorry… please d-don't let them hurt me…" He lowered his head. He expected shouting, screaming, even something like the cold tone Alfred had used before. The first thing he felt was something on his shoulder. He flinched away.

"Why would anyone hurt you?" Francis knelt before him. "You haven't done a thing wrong Arthur… please look at me, mon cher, and put your hands down." Slowly Arthur obliged. He was cautious in lifting his head, and he avoided Francis's gaze. He caught sight of Vash and Manus standing a little ways away. Francis wrapped his arm around him. "What's the matter Arthur?" He brushed away a tear, but Arthur turned his head away.

"…th-they're going to have my head now…" he murmured. "Th-they're going to slaughter me like the beast I am…"

"What are you talking about?"

"Th-the fire!" Arthur looked up. "You saw it, everyone may as well have seen it! I'm a witch, a f-filthy witch, and they're going to have my head for it!" Francis gasped, and his grip on Arthur loosened slightly.

"Oh, Arthur…" Francis pulled him into his arms. Arthur instantly tensed up. "That's what this is all about? Is that… that's why you don't want to go back to Spades! That's it, isn't it? Oh, mon cher, mon ange…" He shook his head. Arthur found himself practically in Francis's lap. "You poor thing… how could I have forgotten, you're from Spades…"

"Wh-what of it?" Arthur squirmed and tried to wriggle away. "What has that got to do with anything?" Francis sighed and pulled Arthur in close again.

"Arthur, it's not like that here in Diamonds…" From seemingly nowhere he seemed to produce a fine handkerchief, and he dabbed the tears away. "Magic is no curse Arthur, it's a gift. You've got a beautiful, beautiful gift…" When the cloth came away from his eyes, he found that Arthur was staring at him.

"A-a gift?" He sniffled. Francis mustered up a smile and gave the cloth to Arthur for the rest.

"A powerful gift…" Francis pecked a kiss to Arthur's forehead. "With a little practice, you could be very, very strong, very powerful… your gift will be beautiful Arthur."

"Y-you think that this is beautiful?" Arthur sniffled and wiped his nose. In his free hand a tiny blaze flickered, protected from Arthur's panic only by his curiosity. Francis cupped Arthur's hand between his own. When he pulled it away, a sunset rose sat on his palm.

"The most beautiful thing in the world." Francis somehow found the heart to chuckle seeing the surprise on Arthur's face. He cradled the precious bloom in his hands.

"…d-did you just…? Are you…?" Arthur held the rose close and looked up at Francis. Francis had calmed himself down enough to give Arthur one of his beautiful smiles. His hand came to rest on Arthur's shoulder.

"I did, and I am." He murmured. "Lots of people are. It is a special gift, and yours is very strong." Francis pulled Arthur a little closer. He ignored the watchful eyes of Manus and the angry stomping of Vash as he left them for who knows where. Arthur had taken to hiding his face in Francis's shirtfront, but Francis didn't stop him. "Arthur… Arthur, it's okay. Don't worry, no harm will come to you because of your gift. You've got a talent, a skill to be honed, and nobody in the world will take it from you. If I can help it, nobody will harm you for it either.

"Alfred will." Arthur could feel Francis tense up. "Y-you said it yourself… I've got to go back to Spades soon. H-he'll be here within a week, and when I get back…" Arthur paused. The lump in his throat was choking him. Francis sighed and helped Arthur stand up, but he didn't push him away.

"Do not worry about Alfred." He mumbled. "He will keep his hands off of you or he will have the Diamond royal guard to answer to. I will not let any harm come to you."

"You can't mean that."

"I do mean it. I am a man of my word." Francis tried to sneak a kiss to Arthur's cheek. Manus glanced aside and pretended not to see. "…my love."


	9. Someone's on the Train

Ch. 9

The room had changed, but the empty silence of the palace was slightly disrupted by Arthur's moans and cries of pleasure- though Francis told him he was getting better at quieting himself. The nearest window was open to let in the cool night air from the garden. Even as high up as they were Arthur could make out the earthy symphony of crickets, birds, and the evening breeze. He puffed a sigh and leaned his head against Francis's chest. Their fun was through for the night. He could feel Francis shift slightly to his side.

"Something the matter, Arthur?" he asked. The question needed no answer; their week was nearly up. Arthur in turn said nothing and simply tugged the covers up.

"I'm going to miss you…" he mumbled. Francis's hand slid a little lower on his arm and urged him closer.

"I already miss you." He chuckled. "But, we have made the most of these past few days, haven't we? I hope the feeling has been mutual?"

"Yes, of course." Arthur smiled. "I can't imagine spending it any other way… but I'm still worried about… you know." He bit down on his lip. Carefully he worked his hands up from under the covers, holding them where he could see them. "I-I don't want to have another outburst… I'm afraid of what Alfred will do, th-there's no way he's going to spare me if it happens again."

"Arthur." Arthur looked up, and within moments Francis had stolen up his lips for a kiss. "You're working yourself up again… I'm sure it's going to be fine, and besides your control has gotten better. Try something now, something small."

"Y-you're sure it's alright?"

"I wouldn't tell you to do it if I weren't." Francis rolled over to face him. Arthur took a shaky breath, staring at his hands. It wouldn't be hard, he knew what to do, and he knew how to do it…

_Go on darling, aren't you going to oblige this lover of yours?_

Arthur grit his teeth, going through the process in his head. A small flame flickered to life on his fingertip. It trembled madly on its own, but with a little concentration he managed to get it almost completely still. Francis touched the end of a cigarette to the flame and laughed, placing the end between his lips.

"You're doing very well." He mumbled. He paused to take a drag from his cigarette. Arthur frowned and snuffed out the little flame.

"Light your own damn cigarette next time…" he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. Francis chuckled and, blowing his smoke in the opposite direction, spoke.

"Je suis désolé, I couldn't help myself…" He kissed Arthur's cheek, his chin, and the corner of his lips. "But your control is getting better, especially considering the fact that it's only been what, four days?"

"Has it really been that long?" Arthur frowned. "It barely feels like it's been half of that!"

"Half?" Francis snickered and shook his head. "I don't see how you can lose track. I remember every time we've made love, if nothing else…and every time was wonderful." At this Arthur stared, cheeks pink, and covered some of his face.

"H-hush…" he grumbled. "Of course I remember those parts… I only wish we had a little more time…"

"So do I, mon amour, so do I…" Francis took another drag from his cigarette. Arthur lowered the covers. Francis tucked a finger under his chin and guided Arthur's lips to his. He blew a bit of smoke to him and Arthur attempted to breath it in. Somehow he managed to delay the inevitable coughing fit for a few seconds. Francis blew the remaining smoke toward the window and smiled. "I told you, you don't just suck it in, you've got to inhale…"

"I-I don't see how you can stand the way that stuff tastes…" Arthur gagged. "Ugh, r-repulsive… let's try it again." Francis chuckled and reached to the bedside table, snuffing the cigarette out in a little glass dish.

"It'll keep you up... and word is that your King will be here by noon tomorrow. The last thing you need is to be deprived of rest." He tried to smile, but when he came back to face Arthur again any hint of repulsion, disappointment, or even affection had gone. Arthur's face creased with a deep frown. Francis couldn't help losing his own small smile.

"You're worried about seeing him again?" Arthur looked up, having hidden the lower part of his face beneath the covers. Francis sighed and turned out the light, blanketing them in darkness. Arthur could feel warm fingers against his cheek. "I'm sure he'll be happy to see you again…"

"But what if he isn't?"

"He's spent an awful lot of time negotiating to have you back. Correspondence between he and I has been almost nonstop since you arrived."

"You've been planning to send me back since I arrived?" Arthur couldn't see it, but he could tell that he'd made Francis cringe. The tension in his fingers reflected it.

"…I told you, my country must come first." His voice went quiet. "There are few people in Diamonds who are happy about your presence. They hold their tongues because you've been with me, but I doubt that others will do the same. You have to understand, mon amour, this is for your protection." With those words, the bedroom fell silent. Even the gentle symphony of the garden outside seemed to check itself. The wind outside became a whisper, and the distant bustle of palace business halted altogether. Nothing remained to cover the soft sobs that racked Arthur's side of the bed.

Arthur hid his face in his hands. The fingers on his cheek were gone, but the covers were tugged up just a little higher, and a pair of arms folded around him. Francis's hands came to rest in his hair, and his lips on Arthur's forehead. They lay wordless until Arthur's tears were spent and they each drifted off to somber dreams.

/ \

"_I love you." Francis whispered. Arthur broke down sobbing into his fists. Francis had insisted that his clothes be brought to the little room so that he could have 'private words' with Arthur. They were left alone, behind a locked door and a dressing screen. Arthur was only half dressed when he lost it. His words were lost with every wail and cry and shuddering gasp, and Francis was only mostly certain that he was even crying about what he thought he was crying about._

"_Arthur, please, you've got to calm down…" he murmured. He was doing the buttons up the back of Arthur's shirt; his hands shook too much to button it himself. "Everything is going to be okay. Alfred isn't going to hurt you, you're going to get home safely, and life will go back to the way it should be. This is just the way it has to be, Arthur..." He hated having to admit it, but one of them had to be the voice of reason in all of this, and if he were the one insisting on Arthur staying then it would be a declaration of war. Somewhere in Arthur's indistinguishable blubbering he picked out the words 'going to kill me' and 'burn me alive.'_

"_Oh, Arthur…" Francis straightened up. Before he had a chance to speak again Arthur was in his arms, bawling into his shirtfront. Francis made no move to stop him. His arms snaked around Arthur's body, and he held him for as long as they were allowed to be alone together. "Je t'aime, je t'aime beaucoup, I love you so much…"_

Arthur was still clinging to those words half an hour later. The Diamonds had been so generous as to provide him with clothing of neutral coloration to wear. He wore a nice, warm coat, white gloves, and black shoes with a mirror shine, nothing less than befitting royalty. Every so often he would sneak a glance back at Francis, and as instructed he would always look away once their eyes met; they didn't need anyone thinking they had grown fond of each other. The doors as the far end of the room swung open.

"The King of Spades enters!" Someone called. Diamond guards stood at attention by the door, though they moved away to let the King and the small group of Spadian guards surrounding him through. Arthur cast his eyes to the ground again. Some part of him had prayed that this day just wouldn't come, that something would happen to postpone the inevitable and give him just a little bit longer to be with Francis. He tried not to shrink away as Alfred's boots came into view, nor as he was offered a hand.

"My Queen." Arthur bit his lip. How long had it been since he had heard that voice? He placed his hand in Alfred's and looked up. He was not prepared for what he saw. The left side of Alfred's face was horribly scarred, as if the skin itself had boiled and bubbled away like wax and grown back in places. He wore a black leather patch that covered his left eye, but he kept the remaining eye fixed on Arthur. "I am here to take you away from here." Arthur couldn't help staring. He couldn't bring himself to speak so he merely nodded. Alfred looked up at Francis.

"The ransom has been paid in full." Alfred's voice hadn't suffered in the blaze; he still spoke with as much strength and clarity as ever, if not more. Francis, however, looked to be at a complete loss for words. He stiffened when Alfred looked at him.

"I am aware." He replied. "…keep your Queen close, Spade King. I can't guarantee we will give him back in one piece next time." This drew the attention of both Alfred and Arthur, though Francis had eyes only for the King. Alfred struggled not to sneer.

"I'll keep that in mind." He grumbled. His hold on Arthur's hand tightened and without warning he turned, leading Arthur away. Arthur turned and caught his final glimpse of Francis before he let himself be dragged away into the ring of guards. Immediately Alfred's hand moved to his waist, and he pulled Arthur as close as would allow them both to walk. Arthur didn't dare protest. His face had paled during their little exchange. He had forced his gaze to the ground again; he couldn't stand to look Alfred in the eye.

\ /

The moment they were outside the palace, Arthur and Alfred were herded into a carriage barely big enough for two. It was a Diamond carriage with Diamond drivers, and the Spadian guards walked to either side of it. Alfred kept Arthur close, practically in his lap, but he didn't say a word. The roads were smooth, but everywhere they went they were met with hateful stares. Arthur tried to muster up a smile for some child on the street but its mother quickly covered its eyes and scowled at him. Alfred urged him in closer to the shelter of the small carriage, and Arthur kept his sight away from the people.

The city itself was beautiful, Arthur realized- he had only seen rooftops before. Every building was made of smooth stone and painted brick. Street signs, while completely foreign to him, were painted with beautiful white lettering. Grand sculptures and fountains sprung up in the middle of the city squares, some circled by neatly trimmed hedges or flower bushes. At one point they went over a bridge and Arthur helped himself to the view of a river that seemed to run through the city itself. Alfred's ever constricting hold made it clear that he didn't want Arthur's eyes to wander, but his intentions went ignored.

"This place is beautiful…" Arthur commented absently. "Isn't it beautiful Alfred? Look at the river, there are people riding across on little boats-" Alfred cut him short with a rather rough pull that nearly sent him tumbling backwards. One of the drivers glanced back but said nothing to them. Arthur hurriedly sat himself back up. He said nothing more for the remainder of the ride.

They arrived a while later at small building to the far side of the great city. Arthur dared to look backwards trying to get a final look at the Diamond palace before he went, but Alfred didn't allow him the time. He and Alfred were rushed off of the carriage, and the moment their feet touched the ground the drivers were off again, and the carriage was trundling away down the road.

"Shouldn't they be-" His question went unheard. Alfred took his hand again and led him around the building. When someone approached them he displayed a little slip of paper, and they were allowed to pass. Anyone else standing on the raised stone platform backed away from them and their ring of guards, and this time Arthur had nowhere to hide from their prying eyes. They stood for several minutes, watching the empty space before them.

"…is something going to happen?" Arthur looked up at Alfred. "Is there some reason that we're standing here, or are we just going to gawk like fools at this big empty stretch of land? There's nothing here!" Alfred said nothing, but he turned his gaze to the far side of the platform. Arthur looked with him. Far in the distance- though growing nearer with alarming speed- was a great black creature. It vomited smoke from a column on its head like a breaching whale, and a blade protruded from its front that looked big enough to slice the whale down the middle. Arthur's eyes flitted around the platform. Nobody else seemed to react, and a few of them even stood up and moved closer to the edge. How were they so calm? Whatever that was it looked big enough to smash them to bits, and they were all standing and watching like fools!

"A-Alfred?" Arthur looked up. Was this his plan then? This was how they disposed of witches, feeding them to the great steel beast? Or maybe he would just shove him into its rut and let it run him over? Arthur would have backed away if Alfred hadn't been holding him. It had to be his imagination telling him that he could feel Alfred pushing him towards it. The monster wasn't far now, close enough for him to hear its ear-splitting shriek. Everyone else stood unfazed. It seemed as though it were starting to slow down, but the change was very small. Arthur was certain now; this unearthly terror would be his end. Alfred was going to shove him at the great beast as it rolled by! He squeezed his eyes shut and waited, trying to block out the awful sound of the monster screeching to a halt, but Arthur didn't let his guard down until the awful noise had faded from his ears. He cracked one eye open, peering at the steel colossus before him. It was much larger than it had looked from far away, its body was like a serpent- or rather, many small serpents joined together. Alfred tried to tug him towards it but he dug in his heels. Finally Alfred had to look back at him, but to Arthur's shock and even horror his King actually looked surprised at his behavior.

"Wh-what's going on?" Arthur whimpered. "Alfred, what is that? What are we doing here?" It was impossible to mask his fear. Alfred blinked and glanced back at the now silent creature, but his expression didn't change.

"It's only a passenger train." Alfred stepped towards him and regained his grip on Arthur's hand. "Come on, we're going to board it."

"We're going to _what?!_" Arthur gaped at him. Alfred was already leading him towards one of the openings in the monster's steel body. The guards were waiting behind them, cornering Arthur between them and Alfred and practically forcing him into the beast.

"Calm down, nothing bad is going to happen." Alfred frowned. "I rode the train all the way here myself, it's completely safe."

"We're going to ride this… 'train' all the way home?" Arthur felt his knees weaken. "Why? What's wrong with a carriage, there's nothing wrong with taking a carriage!"

"It's going to be fine! We've got our own compartment a little further down, there's nothing to worry about." Alfred helped Arthur onto the little step. If it weren't for the several men behind him Arthur might have leapt back. He didn't want to touch it, what if it got angry?

Alfred led him through several of the train's cars, dodging the gaze of disrupted passengers and unruly children. They stopped when they reached one of the last few cars, which was split into small compartments. It took a moment's persuasion to get Arthur into the thing, and another to get him to take a seat, but when he was eventually seated Alfred gave some instructions to the guards and watched them file into the remaining compartments.

"I thought we would never get a moment alone…" he muttered, pulling the door curtain shut. When he turned around he found that Arthur had shoved himself as far into the corner of the seat as he could, his back straight against it and his hands tucked into his lap. He stared at Alfred with wide, fearful eyes. Alfred did little more than stare back for a while, his single good eye fixed on Arthur. Eventually he did take his seat on the little bench across from him. Arthur hurriedly pulled his legs up to avoid contact. He immediately regretted it; Alfred didn't look happy.

"Are you alright?" he mumbled. "You're all pale… Arthur, hey, are you…?" Alfred trained off. He started to reach for Arthur's hands but he was quick to draw them away. "Is something wrong?"

"Is something wrong?!" Arthur snapped, trying to force himself a little further into the corner. "Is something wrong?! Perhaps I don't like being forced to ride inside this… this… steel monster!" Alfred looked taken aback. "Wh-what is this? I know it's a train, b-but _why?_ Why are you doing this? Is this some sort of punishment? Is this part of my death sentence?" Arthur's voice quavered as he spoke. It didn't help that Alfred looked completely startled by his behavior.

"Wh…death sentence?" Alfred sat up and shut the blinds. Before Arthur had a chance to feel unsettled by the darkness he flicked on a small electric light. A little glass bulb flickered to life above their heads, though it didn't do much to light their compartment. "Ugh… oh well, it'll do for light. Now what's this about a death sentence?" He frowned. Arthur shifted in his seat. He felt like he was sitting on a log.

"…at the inn." He murmured. "Y-you called me a witch… we both know the laws about magic in Spades, and if performing it doesn't get me in trouble th-then I believe that harming the King would earn me something like a death sentence, wouldn't it?" Arthur fought down the lump in his throat. His head still ached from his earlier outburst, and he didn't want to cry now, not when he was uncertain as to how Alfred felt about him. "Don't act like you don't remember it now, you've still got the scar from that night." This seemed to jog the King's memory. Alfred looked about ready to be sick, and he took a minute to regain his composure.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He sat up a little straighter, and his gaze fell to the floor. "I don't remember any inn. Our carriage was stopped by bandits. They made us get out, and when we tried to fight them they held a torch to my face and pushed you to your presumed death. The bandits we killed and left to be buried by the snow." He paused and crossed his arms over his chest. "At least, that's how I remember it… and that's how our accompanying guards and servants from that night said it happened too. Isn't it so, Arthur?" He looked up, relieved to see that Arthur didn't look afraid anymore so much as he did surprised. He allowed Arthur a little while to process the new story. From the small space between the window and the curtain he could see men outside readying things for the train's departure.

"Th-that's what you told everyone?" Arthur averted his eyes, but he knew Alfred had nodded. To think, Alfred had constructed such an elaborate story, and after the reaction he'd had too. "So… they all thought I was dead all that time? It's been… how long has it been?"

"About a month and a half." Alfred leaned in. "It was somewhere around a month when I found out where you were; I thought I had lost you… I thought you were _gone,_ Arthur, I… I felt awful…" Arthur dared to glance over at him. He looked awfully serious. "You looked so scared, I couldn't believe I let my last words to you be so… hateful." Arthur frowned and tried to think back to that night. He hadn't forgotten the horrible things he had said, spewed forth like venom from a serpent, especially that one miserable slur that Alfred had thrown at him.

"…am I not still a _witch_ then?" Arthur had hoped to make himself sound upset but calm with those words, coupled with crossing his arms to complete the icy gesture, but the train had to choose that moment to lurch to life. Arthur was thrown from his seat and likely the wall as well if it hadn't been for Alfred catching him under the arms. He stared up at him, eyes wide. The train was moving. Alfred was quick enough to pick up his discomfort this time and he helped Arthur into the seat beside him.

"I would appreciate it if you weren't." he muttered. "But I can't control that. If you will consent to not act like one, I won't have you treated like one." Arthur clenched his jaw.

_The way he speaks of it, as if it were a choice…_

He had almost forgotten about the demon. Where had it been the past few days? "F-fine." He muttered. "B-but just don't use that word again…"

"Which one?"

"Y-you…" Arthur paused. It occurred to him that Alfred was just as ignorant of his upbringing as he was of the strange 'train' beast. "…don't call me a witch."

"What?" Alfred frowned. "Why not? That what you are, isn't it? Why can't I-" A single sharp glare was enough to end that.

"It's rude! And you have to ask why not, it's as if we're all the same to you? That's a horrid thing to say…"

"Well then what can I call you?" Arthur didn't want to have to explain this most basic of things to him, but again it seemed that Alfred was truly oblivious. He sighed and tried to get settled in his seat.

"If you must call me anything then please, call me a wizard." He crossed his arms in his lap. "It just makes more sense."

"Why?"

"It just does!" Arthur scowled. "You wouldn't question why we call ourselves King and Queen and not some other silly thing, would you?"

"Of course not, we've always done it that way."

"Well this isn't any different."

"But it's-" Whether it was Arthur's cold eyes or Alfred's own judgment that shut him up, he wasn't sure, but Arthur was glad that Alfred had the sense to keep his mouth shut on this one. The little compartment fell silent. Arthur slowly became more aware that they were still on the screaming metal beast, chugging along at some insane speed, but the implications of that didn't seem nearly as great as their little exchange.

"…so, Arthur?" Alfred was the first to speak up. "Um… I uh, I do have to tell you… you still can't practice magic or anything in Spades. I mean, Queen or not, laws are laws. It's just unnatural, you know?" He put on a small smile. Arthur struggled not to explode at him right then and there and swallow his pride.

"…right. Of course." He grumbled. "Unnatural, unnatural indeed…"

"I'm so glad you understand." Arthur felt Alfred place an arm around him. "You're my Queen, and I… I care about you and all, but you just can't do that. You might hurt someone, or yourself." Arthur shut his eyes in time to miss seeing Alfred kiss his cheek. "I don't want to lose you for real."

"I understand." Alfred looked up. Arthur grit his teeth and turned his head away, but he tried not to let much more of his fury show through. He didn't want to get onto Alfred's bad side again. "Can we open a window in here?"

_Yes, it might do us good to let out some of that tension, it's simply smothering._

"Yeah, of course." Alfred pulled back the curtains. Outside the world flew away behind them, and they had already passed through the city's walls. The outside of the city was nearly as lovely as the inside. The city was so beautiful, the palace already felt so far, far away. The anger dropped from his frown and he moved in closer. Some part of him wanted to see Francis, even if it was from this far away, even if it was just a fleeting glimpse through a window, though that was impossible. He could barely even tell where the windows were. Alfred cracked the window open at the top and, noting how close Arthur had come, wrapped an arm around him.

"Arthur?" The Queen looked up. Alfred put on a gentle smile. "Arthur, hey, it's okay… you don't have to go back there again. I don't know what happened to you while you were there, or if Francis said anything or did anything to you, but whatever happened there, it's in the past. We're going back home to Spades, and you don't ever have to come back to Diamonds again." Arthur stared at him. "In just a little while we'll be miles and miles away from here, and we should be back to the palace in a day or two." Alfred managed to keep his smile, but Arthur sat with his mouth hanging open in shock. Just a few days and he'd go back to cold, oppressive Spades. Its azure walls seemed to pale in comparison to the gleaming Diamond palace, lacking in art and elegance and beauty almost entirely. He had never realized what somber place it as. He shut his lips and nodded.

"Y-yes…" he mumbled. "Just a few days, and… and we'll be back in Spades…" His shoulders slumped. He hadn't a clue what Alfred must have interpreted this as, but the embrace that followed wasn't entirely unwelcome. It did remind him of Francis though.

"It's going to be okay Arthur… the nightmare is over." Alfred smiled and pressed his lips against Arthur's temple. Arthur groaned and tucked his head against his chest.

_I would argue that the nightmare is merely about to begin… but it would be good to appease your boy-king for now. Give him a hug, why don't you?_

Arthur half-heartedly threw his arms around Alfred. The King chuckled and heaved him into his lap. "Arthur… Arthur, it's alright. Are you crying?"

"No…" Arthur rubbed his eyes just in case. He figured he had to be getting better at fighting back tears if he could keep from sobbing over Francis, though his vision was a little bleary. "I-I'm fine…"

"Aw, Arthur!" Alfred pecked kissed to whatever bits of Arthur's face he could get at. "Don't worry, I'll keep you safe from now on. After all, that's my job. Heck, when we get back to Spades, I'll keep everyone from just dumping work on you. I uh, I've sort of been neglecting my own work for the past month or so, but… we'll get it all done." He waved his hand as if it would wave away the unpleasant thoughts of what was to come. "We can cross that bridge when we get to it."

"Right, right, of course..." Arthur didn't bother trying to squirm away, nor did he bother to listen. "…is it alright if I have a rest? I didn't sleep well last night."

"What? Oh, um… yeah, of course." Alfred glanced around the compartment, then moved aside a bit and removed his cloak. "Here, this can be your blanket… and I'll be your pillow!" He smoothed his lap and laughed. Not that he was opposed to Arthur taking his offer seriously, it just caught him off guard when he suddenly found his long-absent Queen's head sitting in his lap. Arthur said nothing more to him, and he wasn't sure if Arthur was asleep or not. Besides, it was rather cute of him to just doze off. Alfred sighed and pulled the curtain away a little, watching the scenery fly by. It was beautiful, he had to admit. An expanse of meadow stretched out to one side of the train, dipping into a river as clear as the overhead sky. Far in the distance he could see snow-capped mountains, just like the ones in Spades… though likely not as pretty up close, he was certain.

"I suppose it is pretty…" he mumbled, stealing a glance down at Arthur. "So pretty…"

/

Arthur woke with a start in the middle of the night. Damn the train, keeping him up with its constant thumping along the tracks. He was certain that it couldn't be any living beast now; nothing could go so fast without stopping for such a long time. Alfred had told him it was a product of Hearts, so he decided it had to be some mechanical beast. He groaned and sat up, his eyes easily sweeping the compartment. The seats folded out like a sort of makeshift bed big enough for him and Alfred to lie together. It wasn't the most comfortable, but it was better than a carriage. He rolled over as far as Alfred's arms would allow him.

"Alfred?" he whispered. Nothing.

"Alfred?" He gave him a nudge. Still nothing.

"_Alfred?_" Arthur nudged a little bit harder. This earned him a groan and, before he could react, Alfred had rolled onto his back and pulled Arthur on top of him.

"Wha…?" He groaned and peeled open his single eye. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, the train is just keeping me up…" Arthur chewed at his lip. "I might've asked for another pillow to put my head under if I had known it was so loud."

"You've been sitting in here with me all day and you're saying you didn't know it was loud…?" Alfred pulled Arthur down again. "Mmgh… I guess you'll just get used to it…"

"But I'm not used to it!" Arthur frowned and turned to lay his cheek on Alfred's chest. "It's too loud for me to sleep."

"Well… Hmm, hold on a moment…"

"I don't see how you can sleep through this sort of noise."

"Arthur, wait."

"Does it always thump along like this?"

"_Arthur._" Arthur stopped. Alfred had pressed two fingers to his lips. His eye was fixed on the ceiling. For a moment, the compartment was quiet save for the soft rumbling of the train. There was a thumping, but it wasn't coming from the train itself. It pattered swiftly, softly, and then was gone. Alfred slowly removed his fingers from Arthur's lips. Arthur stared, wide-eyed.

"What was that…?" His voice was barely a whisper. He stared at the ceiling for a minute or so, and it happened again. It was louder this time, not so careful, and it was following close behind. Arthur opened his mouth to speak but Alfred's fingers went right back to them. The breath caught in his throat. He looked down at Alfred and their eyes met. Alfred didn't look happy.

"Arthur…" He pulled Arthur closer. "Something is on the train."


	10. Innocence and Wickedness

Ch. 10

Arthur sat stalk still, his eyes wide. Alfred slowly laid them back down close to the side where the glass door wouldn't betray their position so easily, or at the very least their identities. Arthur moved away from Alfred's hand.

"Alfred?" He whispered. Alfred looked. "What's going on?" Alfred frowned, glanced at the window, and pulled their blanket up closer.

"…the train is being boarded, Arthur." He tucked the blankets around his Queen. "Honestly, I would have expected it sooner, but… I can see why it happened now."

"What do you mean? Wh-wha… who's doing this? What do you mean you expected it?" Alfred said nothing. He started to sit up and Arthur tried to follow, but he was quickly pushed back down.

"Stay here." Alfred hissed. "Pretend to be asleep until I come back."

"What?!"

"I've got to see to it that nothing bad comes of this-" The compartment went dark. Arthur froze up where he lie, staring straight ahead. He could still feel Alfred's hand.

"A-Alfred…?"

"It's just a tunnel." Alfred shushed him quickly. The pattering of feet had disappeared. Even the clattering of the train seemed to quiet inside the tunnel, and there was no light in sight as far as Arthur could see. "They're in…" Arthur reached for Alfred's hand, holding it in place against his chest.

"Alfred, y-you can't leave me alone here!"

"You'll be just fine, I promise." Alfred's free hand somehow found Arthur's cheek, and in an instant he felt Alfred's lips on his forehead. "Just stay here, pretend to be asleep… hide my cloak. Hide anything with a Spade on it, don't let them see you."

"Alfred, don't you leave me here!"

"Arthur, please, calm down!"

"Alfred-" The dim light of the moon returned. Arthur's eyes darted around the compartment at first, hurrying to see if anything had changed. The only thing that stood out was a pair of bright, violet eyes and silver-blonde hair, just outside the door. He let out a shriek and pointed. A glittering grin appeared. Alfred turned to look back and the light disappeared again. Arthur couldn't see a thing save for those horrifying violet eyes, but even they vanished quickly.

He could hear the door slide open and slam against the wall.

He could hear a soft, desperate grunt from Alfred before his hand was torn away.

He never heard the door close, but by the time the lights were back he found the door shut tight. His hand still hovered around the place where Alfred's wrist had once been, his eyes fixed on where Alfred's had once stared back. He was alone.

"O-oh my god…" Arthur drew his hand back against his chest. What was he supposed to do now? He knew that Alfred had said to just lay down and wait for him, but he couldn't really just sit around and wait, right? After all, what if he never returned?

_Well, if you're awake now and rearing to go, I say you should go find him._

Arthur blinked. Well, perhaps he wasn't completely alone. "Wh-where have you been for the past week?"

_Resting. It was awfully taxing getting you out of those mountains and that forest and all of that, and I can only do so much. I've just been taking it easy, going through your memories. You were awfully fond of those brothers of yours, weren't you?_

Arthur clutched at the blankets beneath him. "D-don't look at those memories… don't look at them. Stay away from them!"

_Don't get your knickers twisted boy, it's not as if I can harm them now, even if I wanted to. I have to say though, I can see why you loved them so much… but anyway, haven't you got a spouse to recover?_

Arthur heaved a sigh. He was right, of course, he needed to go after Alfred. "Yes… just leave those memories alone, they're dear to me…" Arthur crawled towards the door. He could see shadows darting out of sight down the car a ways. The door handle took a bit of coercing, but a little force set it straight and the door easily slip open. There were windows on the opposite side of the train, facing out towards some sort of strange, watery fields and the occasional small building. Not that he was making time to look; he had bigger issues at hand than unidentified farmlands.

Something slammed at the far end of the car. Arthur jumped and looked in that direction. The lights flickered. "Oh dear…" Arthur took the royal blue cloak from inside their compartment and draped it around his shoulders to protect him from the miserable chill running up his spine. "I knew that this train thing would be the end of me…" He muttered, taking small, careful steps down the end of the car. He wasn't sure what he expected from the space between two cars, but he had hoped for something a little safer. There was an opening in the railings on both cars, plenty big enough for him to fit through, but there was no covering over the coupling. He could see the tracks and ground below rushing away beneath his feet, tracks blurring together. Were his hands trembling? He felt like he was going to be ill.

_It's alright darling, you're going to be just fine. Do it… do it for love or something!_

"I-I can't." Arthur backed against the door of their car. Outside it seemed that the train was shaking even more, trying to throw him off his feet. He had to grab onto the railing just to keep himself from collapsing entirely. "I can't, I-I can't, the train will run me over!"

_Come on Arthur, I'm sure you won't. What, are you afraid of a little fall?_

"_Yes!_" Arthur clutched at his hair with his free hand. "Yes, I'm afraid! I'm afraid of falling to my death, I'm afraid of dying, b-but I'm afraid of losing Alfred!" Tears burned in his eyes. He clutched the railing for dear life. "I can't go back without him…" He choked back a sob.

…_Arthur, dear, please listen to me?_

Arthur sniffled, but made an effort to calm himself a little. "Wh-what is it?"

_Just stay calm, I'm going to take your legs for a moment, but you've got to let go of the railing._

"Wh-what?" Arthur looked down. When had he stood up? Why was his body trying to pull him away from the safety of the railing? "Wait!"

_I swear to you, you aren't going to fall. Just shut your eyes and let go of the railing, and I'll get you to the other side._

Arthur felt the train lurch beneath him. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Y-you had better not let me fall…"

_I told you I won't sweetie, but you've got to let go first._

Arthur slowly pried his hands from the railing, and immediately they went over his eyes. He couldn't bear to watch. "Don't drop me, don't drop me, don't…"

_For heaven's sake, it's done! You're on the other side Arthur!_

Arthur opened his eyes. True to his word, the demon had taken him across the open space between cars, and he was now clutching for dear life to the other car's railing. "Th-thank you."

_What, you thought I would let you drop to your doom? Please, that wouldn't do either of us any good…_

"R-right…" Arthur let out a shaky sigh. "Well, now that that's through… Alfred. I need to get to Alfred!"

_Go on ahead Arthur, I'll be up here. It's not as if I can go anywhere…_

Once Arthur had regained his footing he reached for the door. It opened easily, revealing a little hallway not unlike the one that led to his and Alfred's compartment. However, this car only appeared to have one compartment, and its window glass was frosted to the point that its occupants were nothing but intimidating blobs of color. Arthur stood beside the door and listened in. He could make out soft, raspy breathing.

"It was so rude of you to postpone your visit on such short notice, Alfred." This voice was completely foreign to Arthur, as was the heavy accent it carried. Where was that from, Hearts? Clubs perhaps? "We were already making plans for a party. We were going to have music and dancing and fine food, it would have been nice."

"I-I told you already…" Arthur gasped. That was Alfred! "I couldn't come, I… m-my Queen wasn't with me."

"Why not, Alfred?"

"I thought he was dead." Arthur bit his lip. Alfred's voice quavered terribly as he spoke. Surely his absence couldn't have wrecked so much havoc on the poor man. "I-I couldn't come without him. He's the one who has to sign the papers, h-his signature is the only one that can validate-" Alfred was cut off with something like a choking sound. The stranger laughed.

"Come now, that's no good excuse!" Something thumped against the door and Arthur looked up. Someone dressed in royal blue had just been thrown against it, and their body slid to the ground with a thud. "You could have at least told us…"

"I-I sent a messenger!"

"Did you?" The stranger let out something like a giggle, though to Arthur it was a dreadful sound. "I must have missed him… or perhaps he lost his way? Who knows, maybe there was no messenger?"

"There was!" Alfred's voice was strained. "I-I sent him a little while after we lost the Queen!"

"I suppose I'll never know." The stranger's voice grew closer. "Perhaps if I split open that head of yours, I can find something useful inside?"

_What? Are you going to let him talk to the King like that, Arthur?_

"N-no!" Arthur cried out. He wasn't sure whether he really meant to or not, but it did seem to postpone whatever was about to transpire inside the compartment.

_You truly are loyal to that boy, aren't you?_

"What was that?" The stranger sounded angry. "Alfred, what was that?" A soft clattering as the door shook behind Alfred, and a groan. Arthur stood up just as the door slid open. A groping hand reached out from inside, presumably searching for him. Arthur scowled at it and stepped inside the compartment. Alfred sat at his feet, staring up with one nearly bruised eye.

"That was me." Arthur tried not to let his voice betray his fear. The stranger was a man built like a great bear, holding in one paw a battleaxe with a pike at the end. Arthur tried not to stare at it for too long. "I am the Queen of Spades." The stranger looked him over. There were those eyes, those terrible, terrible violet eyes, and with them a honeyed smile.

"So, you are the one holding up the peacemaking?" The man reached for him but Arthur stepped aside.

"Why are you hurting Alfred?" Arthur knelt down beside his King. Alfred looked stuck between gaping and glaring- having one eye did make it hard to read one's expression. He tried to prop himself up on his arms and Arthur rushed to help him, only to have the stranger grab Arthur by his hair.

"Come now, it's rude not to answer when someone asks you a question." He threw Arthur into a seat.

"Y-you brute, how dare you-"

"Arthur!" Arthur looked down. Alfred had managed to stand about halfway, enough for him to collapse into the seat beside Arthur. "Arthur, p-please don't shout. We're supposed t-to be making peace, not making things worse." He placed a hand on Arthur's knee. Arthur stared, horrified.

"Can't you see what he's doing to you?!" Arthur grabbed his hand. "You must be mad, Alfred, y-you're hurt! _He_ hurt you! You can't let him do that!" The pike came down between them, close enough to tear through Alfred's sleeve and puncture the seat beneath them. The stranger looked very unhappy.

"My, Alfred, you've got to train this one better." The stranger yanked his weapon from the seat cushion. "He's so unruly."

"You talk about me like I'm some sort of animal!" Arthur could feel Alfred reaching for him.

"A-Arthur, please, y-you're making it worse."

"An animal?" The stranger laughed. "I'm not sure about that… but if you make yourself a beast, I can certainly carve you like one." He swung his weapon around and before Arthur had a moment to react the pike end was positioned over his heart. "I think I'll start right here…" The stranger had half a second to flash a toothy grin, ready his weapon, and be knocked backward by a sudden lurch from the train. Arthur grabbed onto Alfred to keep him from toppling forwards and braced his feet against the floor.

The train didn't fling them back into their seats after a moment like it usually did. Arthur grabbed onto the seat itself just to keep himself and Alfred from being thrown onto the stranger and his axe. Outside the window the rapidly vanishing scenery came to a screeching halt. The electric light sputtered out.

"…what was that?" Arthur muttered, glancing first out the window. There was little to be seen. "Did we stop…?" He pulled Alfred in closer. The poor man was struggling just to hold himself up, and Arthur was sure it was the stranger's doing. The axe had dropped from his hands, but he didn't seem to have noticed.

"Damn it!" The stranger swore under his breath, his violet eyes fixed on the fogged glass window. Arthur could just make out a dark, blurry shape outside the door. "I should have known he'd come… he always follows me!"

"Who is that?" He looked away from the door for a moment. Arthur stared him in the eye. "Who… what's outside that door?" Alfred looked up and Arthur did little to stop him, until he heard a soft groan.

"Oh, jeez…" Alfred grumbled.

"What?" Arthur scowled. "Alfred, what's going on? What's outside that door?" He started to reach for the door. The stranger groped around for his axe. Whatever was outside, Arthur was certain that this man did not want it inside their compartment. Naturally Arthur took this as a sign to pop it open.

"Don't you _dare_!" The stranger shrieked. "Don't you-" The door slid open easily. Slowly, very slowly, it rolled away. The hall outside was dark, but the little moonlight outside illuminated the pale walls and the blue carpets. The figure had disappeared. "You fool!"

"What?" Arthur looked to Alfred. His King had his head down, but he didn't look angry, only slightly unsettled. "What was outside that door, where did it-"

"Hello!" Bright red eyes. In an instant Arthur found himself inches away from a pair of brilliant crimson eyes. He jumped back, prompting their owner to cackle with laughter. Arthur stared, wide eyed. It took him a full five seconds to realize that this unusual newcomer was squatting on the ceiling of their compartment, completely upside-down, and that the bear stranger was already threatening him with the pike.

"What are you doing here?" he growled. "Why do you always follow me? What sort of beast are you?" The newcomer turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. Another revelation to Arthur; the newcomer had stark white hair.

"You're joking, right? You gotta be joking. He's gotta be joking." The red-eyed man turned to Arthur, gesturing at the stranger with his thumb. "Am I right?"

"I don't think…"

"Of course I'm right." More of that grating laughter and he turned to look at the stranger again, his feet suddenly on the ground. "Don't act like you weren't doing anything in here, you were going to try and mince these two up!"

"Silence demon!" The stranger jabbed the pike at him, but it bent around him.

"Hey, hey!" The 'demon' laughed and crossed his arms. "That's no way to talk to your old buddy Gilbert, right? Besides, I've still got marks from the last time you did that."

"Enough!" The stranger took another stab at Gilbert. The spear bent around him again, in the opposite direction and came near enough to Arthur that it made a small tear in his shirt.

"Watch it!" Arthur scowled. Gilbert looked over his shoulder at him.

"What? Oh, yeah, almost forgot why I came in here!" He flashed Arthur a toothy grin before reaching for him. In one arm he was somehow able to lift him up, and with the other arm he did the same to Alfred. Arthur squawked and squirmed like an enraged canary, but Gilbert said nothing of it. "I can't let you go around killing other suits, your _majesty_, it's just not right. I'm taking these two somewhere you ain't."

"No!" The stranger grasped his weapon in both hands, threatening to bring it down on Gilbert's forehead. "I'll have you ripped to pieces before you get the chance!"

"See you later!"

The axe came down. Arthur squeezed his eyes shut and covered his head with his arms. Why was it so cold? Was he dead? The cold steel beneath his rear and against the back of his cloak suggested otherwise. Slowly he tried opening an eye. Those were still working, as were his arms, and therefore his heart. His head hadn't been split like a melon by the stranger's great axe. He looked around. Alfred sat beside him, weak and likely injured but not unconscious as far as he could tell. Some horrid sound struck him from not far away and he looked up. The white-haired stranger was there, beating away at something with a long piece of metal.

"Pardon me?" Gilbert looked back at him. Arthur sat up, tugging the cloak closer around his shoulders. Wherever they were, it was terribly cold. "But what exactly are you doing with that?" He stared, utterly disinterested, before returning to his work.

"Just losing a little unnecessary baggage." He muttered. "Nothing the train can't get on without, don't worry."

"What?" Arthur sat up, eyes darting around. A closer look at their surroundings did explain a bit; they were outside, on the little metal platform between two cars! The moon was slightly past overhead, but it was still high enough to light Gilbert's work for him. The awful banging of steel on steel was beginning to make his ears ring. "I-I hate to be a bother, mister erm… Gilbert, was it? Gilbert, I hate to disturb you, but-"

"Then don't." Arthur stopped. Gilbert didn't bother putting his work on hold to speak to him, but speak he did. "Listen, I'm sure whatever you've got to say is real important, but it's probably not as immediate as this. Ah, there, got it!" He grinned. Arthur sat up on his knees to see over the side. It appeared that the coupling between the two cars had come undone. Gilbert stuck the steel rod between himself and the car and gave it a shove, sending it rolling away at a snail's pace.

"What did you go and do that for?" Arthur frowned.

"You want that psycho to come after us?" Gilbert gave the car another push and it was out of reach. "Don't worry about him, he'll be fine. We've got to get this thing back on track. Come on queenie!" He snickered, nudging Arthur's head as he knelt to scoop up Alfred. Arthur stared wide-eyed at what he knew to be the caboose, slowly rolling away. Something was moving inside, something with awful violet eyes.

"Hey, you coming?" Arthur jumped. Gilbert was inside, holding the door open for him. "It's pretty cold out here. I mean, you got a cloak and everything, but…"

"Right, right, of course…" He gripped the railing to help himself up before following Gilbert back inside. The door slammed shut behind them. Gilbert was already down at the center compartment of this car- his and Alfred's compartment. "Uh, pardon me, Gilbert?"

"Yeah?" He didn't look up. He had Alfred laid across their fold-out bed, looking him over. "Talk."

"Uh, well… who are you exactly?" Arthur stepped in around him. Alfred's eyes were open just a sliver, just enough for Arthur to see how they stuck right to him. He smiled, and he was fairly certain that he saw Alfred do the same.

"Joker." Arthur looked up. Gilbert was busily prodding his fingers around Alfred's chest and arms. Every so often he would earn a grunt or a moan; it would be another bruise.

"Sorry? I'm afraid I must have misheard you..."

"What?" Gilbert looked incredulous. "You're kidding, right? You've been doing this for what now, two or three months? And in all that time nobody's ever mentioned the Jokers to you?" Arthur blinked a few times, but he said nothing. "For the love of… I swear, you Spades people are almost as bad as the guys in Hearts…" Gilbert cracked his knuckled. "I'm sorta like a… sort of a…"

"An angel?"

"Hardly." Gilbert quirked an eyebrow. "Do I look like an angel to you?" Again, no response from Arthur. His better judgment told him that this wasn't something he wanted to argue on. "But no, Jokers are more like uh… vigilante-demon-magic… things. I travel around and help people, mostly you royal guys, s'posed to keep you from killing each other."

"Oh, I see…" Arthur took a seat on the side of the bed. Alfred's hand found its way into his. "And that other person attacking us was…?"

"King of Clubs." Gilbert pulled down one of Alfred's sleeves, revealing a nasty looking bruise. "And considering the overall damage, I would say we got off lucky."

"Wh… King?" Arthur's eyes narrowed. "King of Clubs? What does he want with us?"

"Hell if I know, the guys nuts." Gilbert rolled his eyes. "I remember the day he lost it, the day he took the throne. I felt bad for the kid at first, his dad had just died and all, but no, he freakin' lost it." Gilbert redressed Alfred and crossed his arms over his chest. "There isn't much I can do for Alfred right now. No big, gaping wounds, just a couple bruises. Maybe he just wanted to rough him up…"

"But why? Isn't Spades trying to make peace with Clubs?"

"I dunno, are you?" Gilbert leant back against the wall. "You're the Queen, I should be asking you that."

"Well I've been gone for the past month!"

"Why?" Arthur stopped. Gilbert was staring at him. Alfred had given his hand a squeeze, and his head lulled against Arthur's side.

"W-we were attacked on our way t-to Clubs…" he coughed. "I thought I lost Arthur, w-we went back home… he ended up in Diamonds…"

"I ended up in Diamonds, so Alfred came and got me and… well, here we are." Arthur hurried to cut Alfred short. The King had a nasty bruise on his throat, he was afraid that too much talking might make it worse.

"H-he must have…" Alfred tried to sit up, but Arthur laid him back down. "H-he must have gotten the wrong idea… sent someone ahead to tell him, I… I think he k-killed him…"

"Alfred, for goodness sake!" Arthur scowled. "Just keep still will you? You're going to hurt yourself."

"Nah, he's fine." Gilbert leaned over the King's feet. "So, he must have gotten the wrong idea or something about you having to cancel? That's so weird… he never did anything like this before his coronation, you know?"

"Yeah…" Alfred frowned. "B-but um, Gilbert…"

"You remember when he was little? I mean, I'm pretty sure you guys were both kids at about the same time, right? You're what, nineteen?"

"G-Gilbert." Alfred's body shook as he coughed. Arthur chewed his lip. "I… I can't talk about this right now."

"What?"

"I'm tired, Gilbert." he groaned, "I just got beaten around, I-I can hardly think straight… c-can I just have a little while to rest?" Alfred rubbed his head. "Just… just a few minutes, a few minutes to rest…"

"Well uh, I guess, but-"

"Of course, Alfred." Arthur cut in. "We'll leave you to rest for a while, you look like you need a moment."

"Wait a minute-" Gilbert was cut off with a glare from Arthur. Alfred rubbed his eyes and Arthur removed the cloak, tucking it around him.

"Take as much time as you like, Alfred. We'll go talk somewhere else." Arthur put on a smile. He was sure Alfred saw it, but his reaction was hidden by the cloak over his face. "I'll come back in a little while." He grabbed Gilbert's wrist and dragged him outside of the compartment, though he stopped to turn out the light and shut the door quietly.

"I was going to talk to him you know." Arthur turned to look at Gilbert. He was pouting, arms still crossed. "I get that you're the Queen and all, but you've already made it clear that you have no clue what you're doing, why are you offering to talk to me in his stead?"

"Because he can barely speak, let alone listen!" Arthur made his way around Gilbert but motioned for him to follow. "And if he can't hold up a conversation, what makes you think he's going to remember anything you're trying to tell him?"

"Alright, alright…" Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Fair enough. My timing isn't the best… let's take this to a different car though, if his majesty needs some beauty rest…" Arthur was about to snap back at him but Gilbert grabbed onto his wrist. In an instant they were in a different car, one with bright lights and rows of seats filled with weary adults. A few at the far end of the car seemed to be sleeping, but some merely lounged with their heads against the back of the seat. Most of the space down the middle was taken up by rowdy children from Diamonds. There were little girls in colorful dresses clutching lovely dolls, and little boys with toy soldiers and the like staging tiny wars on the carpets. Arthur couldn't help smiling at the scene before him.

"This car?" He sighed. "So many children in here…"

"Oh don't worry, they won't bother us. They're just kids." Gilbert shrugged. "Besides, what's a kid care more about; a coupl'a grown-ups talking, or their new toys? Er, except one… Hey, kiddo!" Arthur laughed. The children did indeed look much happier with their toys, none of them even seemed to notice his and Gilbert's presence, though one little boy did look up when Gilbert called out to him. "Come over here, there's someone you should meet!"

"Is that your son?" Gilbert looked over to find Arthur beaming at him. "Or your brother, perhaps?" Gilbert stared a moment, then shook his head.

"No, he's not actually mine… that's the other Joker."

"Oh." Arthur's smile dropped slightly. "Of course… he's rather small though, like a little child."

"He is a child, his name's Peter." Gilbert knelt down. Arthur's smile vanished.

"C-come again?"

"Peter!" Gilbert opened his arms and the little boy came barreling at him. The force was nowhere near close enough to move him, but Gilbert let himself be almost toppled over as the boy leapt into his arms. His laughter lit up the room, and when he turned Arthur could get a good look at his face; cerulean-colored eyes, a pink button nose, and blonde hair like straw that framed his utterly loveable face. Arthur saw his mouth moving, Gilbert's too, but he wasn't listening to what they said. All he knew was that those beautiful blue eyes were fixed on him again, and with them came a great big grin. He thrust his hand towards Arthur.

"Hello sir! My name's Peter-"

"_Peter_!" In an instant Peter had been swept off his feet. Arthur clutched the little boy to his chest. "Peter, Peter, oh my god… y-you're okay, you're safe! I've missed you so much, Peter, oh Peter…" He was sure that he had lost Peter to the fire, if any such event had really transpired. How he managed to survive was a mystery to him, but he couldn't care less if he tried. He had his brother back! Something was off though, why was he squirming so much?

"Oi, what are you doing? Put me down!" Peter squawked. Arthur laughed and let him go.

"My goodness child, aren't you happy to see me? It's been such a long time, I thought you were dead!" He knelt down to eye-level with Peter. For some reason the boy wasn't smiling. "What's the matter Peter, are you feeling alright?"

"Um… yes, I'm alright." Peter blinked a few times. "Are you alright?"

"Am I alright?" Arthur laughed and rumpled his hair. "What are you saying, of course I am! I'm perfectly fine, so are you! Look at us, I thought I'd never see you again!"

"What do you mean again?" Arthur blinked. Peter still wasn't smiling. He stared up at Arthur with wide, curious eyes. "This is the first time we've met! That's why I introduced myself. Gilbert says that you're the Queen of Spades though, is that right? What's your name?" Arthur's smile faltered.

"Yes, I'm the Queen of Spades. My name is Arthur, b-but that's not-"

"Nice to meet you mister Arthur!" Peter grinned. Arthur had no idea when he had given Peter his hand, but he knew that he was shaking it. "Do you want to be friends?"

"Friends?" Arthur's voice quavered. He couldn't say no to that face. "Alright… b-but Peter, w-we-"

"Peter, maybe you should go play with the other kids again." Gilbert sat up, nudging Peter back towards the gaggle of children. Some of them were returning to their parents, toys in hand, but a few boys were in the middle of a battle on the floor, and one side was a man short. Peter trotted off towards them with a big smile. Arthur found himself fixated on the place where Peter had been just a moment ago, the place those big, blue eyes had just stared back at him like they had so many hundreds of times before. Something touched his shoulder. He glanced over. It was only Gilbert's hand.

"Arthur, are you…?" Gilbert knelt beside him. Slowly Arthur sunk to the floor, sitting with his back against one of the seats. His eyes stayed fixed on the place where the little boy had stood just a moment ago.

"…what happened to him?" Arthur heard himself whisper. "What happened to Peter? It's like he doesn't know me at all… wh-what happened to him?" He turned to find Gilbert cringing.

"About that…" Gilbert took a seat beside him. "That, uh… that might have something to do with me…"

"What do you mean?" Arthur straightened up. "Y-you did that to him? You… what did you do? What did you do to Peter?"

"Hey, easy! I did what I had to for the poor kid!"

"What are you talking about?" Arthur's hands clenched into fists. "What do you mean, you 'had' to? You 'had' to take him away from me?"

"No, just listen for a second, will ya?" Gilbert moved away a little.

"Tell me what you did to my brother!" Arthur grabbed at Gilbert's shirtfront. Tears stung his eyes. "What happened to my little Peter?"

"Arthur!" Gilbert grabbed his hands. "Calm down! Jeez… Are you going to let me tell you?" The look in Arthur's eyes was more than enough of an answer; he looked ready to kill something. "Okay… so your um, little brother is a Joker… like me."

"I've figured that much out." Arthur scowled and wrenched his hands away. "But _why?_ Why _my_ brother? He's only a little boy!"

"It's complicated, okay?" Gilbert looked down the car at Peter. He had a little wooden soldier in each hand, and he made them trot alongside each other, occasionally knocking heads with another soldier of the opposite side. "When I found that kid, he was in this little village by the sea… well, it wasn't much of a village really, it was all burned to the ground. Houses were lying in rubble, shops, everything. There were birds and rats everywhere too, it was horrible, and the bodies… I won't try to put it into words, but they were all so badly burned up that I couldn't tell how there were supposed to be…" He shuddered.

"And then I got to this one house by the sea… It was a little bit bigger than the other houses, but it was probably one of the most burnt up ones, it was just…" Gilbert paused. Arthur had gone pale in the face, but he had leaned in to listen better. His eyes were wide open.

"Uh… w-well, um, the house was in bad shape. I was just sorta wandering around, and it looked like the whole thing had happened a while ago. There were a few bodies in the house, but there was this one and I looked at it and it… moved." Gilbert looked up. Arthur looked after him. Peter was trying to convince the last little boy to keep playing with him, but the boy's mother was insisting that they get to sleep. Peter had knelt to pick up his toys before he noticed Gilbert and waved. Gilbert looked back and mustered up a smile.

"…he was too badly hurt to save. He had his legs caught under something, and he was probably starved half to death by then. This was all I could do to help him… It was either this, or leave him there to die." He looked over at Arthur. The Queen's face had gone completely white. He covered his mouth with both hands. Tears rolled down his cheeks, but he didn't even bother to try and rub them away.

"Oh god…" Arthur choked. "Oh god, oh my god, i-it was all my fault…"

"What? Don't say that!" Gilbert sat up.

"B-but it was!" Arthur hid his face. "He got hurt because I was an idiot, I wouldn't listen, I-I did this to him…"

"That can't be right… hey, c-come on queenie!" Arthur sobbed into his hands. Down the car a ways people were starting to take their children and their things to another car, likely the sleeper car. "Er… h-hey, hey, calm down! Look, whatever happened, the kid's okay now, right? Look at him, happy as a clam!"

"B-but he doesn't know who I am!" Arthur sniffled. "I'm his brother, h-he's my little Peter, and he looks at me l-like we've never even met before!"

"Oh jeez…" Gilbert put a hand on Arthur's shoulder. Peter was trotting his way towards them, asking about when they could go to the sleeper car. "You go on ahead kid, I've got things that I need to talk about with this guy. You know which bunks are ours, right? Of course you do!" Peter was gone within the minute, with little more than a 'goodnight' for Arthur. Gilbert waited until he was all the way out of the car to try talking to Arthur again.

"Hey, come on Arthur… look, the kid's alive. You can catch him up on everything later, tell him about things before the fire, about your family or whatever. H-he ain't really gone, he's just… well, he is kinda gone, I guess, but not really!" Arthur looked up. The grin Gilbert was trying to muster looked more like a grimace, and he looked utterly at a loss for what more to say. What could one say about something like this? Arthur rubbed his eyes on his sleeve.

"Hey uh, look queenie, I get that this is probably tough… in fact, I know it's tough… but uh, if it's any comfort, I've been trying to look out for the kid." Arthur said nothing. "I'm not gonna stop you from talking to him if you want to, but I've been trying to take good care of him! Heh, he ain't a bad kid…" Gilbert looked to Arthur again, hoping for some response. Arthur was still for a while, his face hidden behind his hands, but slowly he curled his fingers and stared blankly at the place where Peter had once stood.

"…as long as he's alright." Arthur mumbled. "I'll talk to him first thing tomorrow, y-you hear me? First thing."

"Fine by me. Heck, you can talk to him at breakfast." Gilbert gave him a thump on the shoulder and helped him back up. "But uh, no offense your majesty, you look super tired. You should probably go back to bed with Alfred right now."

"Of course." Arthur sighed and started towards the opposite end of the car but stopped in front of the door. Gilbert stood, watching, waiting for Arthur to do something.

"Uh, you alright queenie?" Arthur looked back at him. His hand was hovering just over the doorknob, and he had a shaky smile plastered across his lips.

"Y-you think you could help me back to my car?"

\ /

Arthur's eyes had started to ache by the time he got back to his and Alfred's little compartment. He slipped his shoes off by the door and flopped down beside Alfred. Almost without thinking he curled up to him, his head tucked against his chest. His mind was back in Diamonds.

"You took a long time…" Arthur glanced up. Alfred's eye was a bit hard to make out, but he could tell that it was fixed on him. "What did Gilbert want?"

"Oh… nothing much, I suppose, I don't think he ever said…" Arthur pulled the covers up and hid his head. "We didn't do much of anything really, I'm sure that we spent most of the time walking back to our car… what are you doing?" Alfred was fumbling with something on Arthur's chest.

"You're still wearing my cloak." Alfred let it fall over the side of their bed.

"Oh, right, sorry." Arthur paid the garment little attention. Now he was stuck thinking about Peter. "…I saw someone when I was down there with Gilbert. Someone I knew before I was Queen." He felt Alfred tense up. His arms came to rest around him, and he was quick to pull Arthur in close again.

"…not a lover, I hope?"

"No, not at all. You'll probably get to see him tomorrow."

"Good." Arthur cracked an eye open. "I don't want anybody stealing you away from me, not ever again." Arthur opened his mouth to speak but Alfred tightened his grip to the point that it was hard to breath. "I can't stand not having you around, it was awful when I thought you were-"

"_A-Alfred_." Alfred hastily loosened his grip. "F-for goodness sakes… let's not think of it anymore tonight, I'm exhausted and you're hurt."

"…right, of course. I'm sorry." Arthur felt Alfred's lips peck his forehead. "I'm sorry Arthur, but I-I just can't lose you again."

"You won't." Arthur pulled himself up so he could look his King in the eye. "I'm not going anywhere Alfred. Y-you're my King, and… and I'm your Queen." Again his mind went to Diamonds. How many times had Francis told him he loved him in just a few days? Probably hundreds. A warm finger tucked beneath his chin, and before Arthur could question it he found himself kissing Alfred. For a few seconds he indulged himself in thoughts of Francis, his hands, his lips, the gentle rise and fall of his voice when he whispered in the night. Arthur realized that he was smiling through their kiss. Alfred pulled away with his own little grin.

"I love you Arthur." He whispered, settling back in again. "Sleep tight."

"You too Alfred." Arthur pulled up the covers to hide his awful blush. "You sleep well too…"


	11. The Broken Olive Branch

Ch. 11

"And then you just… fold it like this!" Peter grinned and showed off the little boat he had made out of his breakfast napkin.

"Oh, that's simply lovely Peter!" Arthur chuckled.

"Do you like it? Gilbert taught me how to make boats like this!"

"Did he now?"

"Yup!" Peter set his boat on the blue placemat, as if to pretend it were a tiny sea. "We were in the far south of Diamonds, and it was very hot! But when we got there it had just rained, so all of the other children were outside playing. Me and Gilbert-"

"Gilbert and I." Arthur corrected him. Peter paused to give him a scowl before going on.

"Me and Gilbert got some candy, and he and me folded little boats out of the wrappers! And they looked like this!" Again he gestured down to his paper creation, and again Arthur applauded his efforts to recreate Gilbert's paper boats.

"Bravo Peter! It sounds like you had a whole lot of fun while you were there." Arthur rested his head on his hands. "You've got so many nice stories to tell, don't you?" He glanced around the breakfast car. Most of the people still there were stuffy adults pouring over newspapers and engaging in dull, polite conversation. A little ways away Gilbert and Alfred sat at another table, talking about something terribly businesslike that Arthur had little interest in. As such, he was tasked with watching Peter. Alfred noticed him looking and gave him a little smile. Arthur found himself smiling back. If nothing else, this did give him a chance to catch up with his beloved brother.

"There was another time that me and Gilbert went to Diamonds," Peter started again. "And he said he got to talk to the King, so I got to have tea with the Queen! She's got a big room all to herself, with lots of toys and games and art supplies. She taught me how to draw a robin, and then we went to the garden and had teeny sandwiches for lunch!"

"That sounds delightful, Peter." Arthur fixed his attention on the little boy again. "You went to Diamonds, you say? Did you get to meet the King? I hear he's a very kind man."

"Oh he is! He was with Gilbert for most of the time, but I got to see him once before I saw the Queen. He pat me on the head because I look just like someone he knows, that's what he said."

"Did he now?" Arthur couldn't hide how happy that made him. Had Francis even known that this boy was his own brother? "What about the Queen Peter, what did you think of her?"

"Um… she was pretty." Peter giggled. "She let me put flowers in her hair, and she took the stems and… and made the flowers into a crown! And then we were both Queen!" Arthur laughed and almost snorted into his tea. Peter laughed along with him, though he hardly knew why. A little ways down the car, Alfred- barely listening to Gilbert- smiled at the two of them, before having his attention dragged back to the topic at hand.

"Oh my…" Arthur rubbed his eyes. "Well, I'm glad to hear that you had fun in Diamonds, it sounds like such a nice place to visit."

"It is!"

"It is… I'll have to visit it again someday." Arthur allowed himself a moment's thought of Francis and the beautiful hours they had spent together before forcing his mind back to the present. "It sounds like you and Gilbert have a lot of fun together."

"We do! We get to go lots of fun places, and meet fun people, and do fun things! And we eat lots of good food!"

"Well, everyone loves good food." Arthur crossed his legs under the table and took a final sip of his tea. "You sure seem to be getting alone well…" He paused to stare into the empty cup.

"Yup. Gilbert and me have a lot of fun together. I wouldn't trade it for anything!"

"I don't see why you would. It sounds like you really adore this life…" Arthur trailed off. He was sure that Peter said a little more about fun, candy, and something having to do with Hearts, but Arthur was content to do little more than smile and nod. The poor boy had no idea the havoc he was wreaking on his brother's heart. Outside the window pine trees sailed past them, and the wind blew green leaves from the ground. The train chugged along at an impressive speed that Arthur had somehow learned to get used to over the course of a few days. He still kept his feet braced against the floor in case they jolted to a stop, but he wasn't afraid of the steel beast swallowing him like a tasty morsel. The mountains that had once been far in the distance were practically within walking distance now, close enough that he could see the trees that dotted their tops and the snow that piled up in the stony veins. Arthur's smile steadily faded. How close were they to Spades.

"Hey!" Arthur jumped. Peter was frowning at him, his arms crossed over his chest. "Are you listening? I just told one of the best stories!" Arthur stared a moment, then put on a smile.

"Of course I was. I'm sorry Peter, I just wanted to look out the window. It's very pretty out there, isn't it?" He pointed at the glass. Peter leaned forwards and watched for a few seconds before sitting back down.

"I suppose so… I don't like being out in the cold though." Peter shrugged. "I like things that are warm, like Diamonds and hot chocolate."

"You like hot chocolate Peter?" Arthur glanced around the dining car. There was still a waiter or two on duty. He grinned and moved a little closer to Peter. "How about you go ask one of those nice men in the vests if they'll bring two cups of hot chocolate out for us, hm? It's an awfully chilly morning, I think we deserve it, don't you?" Peter's eyes lit up at the suggestion. Without another word he slipped from his seat and trotted over to one of the men. Arthur watched him follow the man into the small kitchen, and to his surprise and to Peter's delight the waiter allowed it. He decided to take the opportunity to check up on Gilbert and Alfred. He stood up and made his way to their table.

"…wants to start something with Spades, it would not be wise to continue trying to arrange something with him."

"As King of Spades I have to insist that I at least—Hello Arthur." Alfred plastered on a big smile. "Do you need something?"

"Not at all." Arthur sat on the edge of Alfred's booth seat. "You two are awfully quiet considering how much talking you're doing, may I ask what it is I'm missing out on?" Gilbert opened his mouth to speak but Alfred cut him short with his signature bubbly laughter.

"Nothing that you would be interested in, Art." He wrapped an arm around Arthur. Arthur looked up at him.

"What's this 'Art' business?"

"What, it's a nickname. It's cute!" Alfred shrugged and flashed Arthur a grin. "Don't you like it?"

"I suppose." Arthur muttered. The topic of nicknames had never come up between them, and he didn't see why it would now, but he didn't completely hate the idea. "Do I have to call you something then?"

"No."

"I could probably come up with something."

"No!" Alfred laughed and pulled Arthur into his lap just in time for Peter to come running at them with one cup in his hands, and the waiter behind him with another. Peter set the cup before Arthur with a grin and Arthur rewarded him with a pat on the head.

"Thank you dear. Why don't you sit with us?" He nodded across the table. Gilbert moved over with a small frown that not even Peter's presence could wipe away. The second cup of cocoa was set at Peter's place and the little boy quickly took a sip.

"Arthur, try it! They make it with cream!"

"Do they now?" Arthur took a tiny sip and smiled. "Oh that is good…" he chuckled and set the cup in its saucer. He caught Gilbert glaring at the cup. Alfred gave him a squeeze and took Arthur's hands in his own.

"We're getting close to the station, I believe. Not more than twenty minutes." Alfred glanced out the window.

"Good." Gilbert grumbled, leaning his head on his hand. "We can finish talking there, where little ears can't listen." He nodded his head towards Peter as he said it, but Arthur was sure that Gilbert met his eyes.

"I suppose you're right. We should enjoy these last few minutes after all, it's going to be right back to work once we get home! Heh…" Alfred eased back a little. Arthur helped himself to another sip of hot chocolate.

"What is it that you two are talking about anyway?" he asked, looking at Alfred. "Sounds awfully secretive, surely nothing I can't be kept up on?" Again Gilbert opened his mouth to speak, but Alfred spoke up before he got the chance.

"Don't worry your pretty head about it Arthur." He leaned up and pressed a kiss to the first part of Arthur's face his lips came into contact with. "It's just business and the like."

"Business?" Arthur crossed his legs on top of Alfred's. "Isn't that the Jack's department? Perhaps I should tell him once we get back to Spades?"

"That will not be necessary." Gilbert lowered his voice. "…if you _have_ to know, queenie, we can talk when we're at the palace, but you aren't the only one who doesn't need to hear this now. Even these walls have ears." He glanced around. Nobody made it obvious that they were listening, but now that Arthur looked there were an awful lot of people with newspapers around their car. His gaze swept the room before landing on little Peter, who was still enjoying his cocoa, blissfully unaware of the seriousness of their conversation. Arthur's grin disappeared.

"Fair enough." He looked Gilbert in the eye. "But I don't want to be left out on whatever this is. I may have been gone, but I am still the Queen. I want to be kept in the know."

"Oh, Arthur, don't talk like that." Alfred chuckled. "It's not like I'm going to let them dump work on you the moment you arrive, you'd be horribly stressed if I did. You shouldn't overwork yourself-"

"I'm not overworking myself Alfred!" Arthur squirmed until he got Alfred to loosen his grip "I only want to do what I should have been doing for the past month and a half."

"Don't worry, it's all going to be taken care of."

"And I am the one who's going to take care of it!" Arthur crossed his arms. "I am fully capable of doing whatever must be done, Alfred. I am the Queen after all, just as you are the King." This quieted Alfred for the time being, and Arthur took the moment's silence as an opportunity to sip his drink. The table fell quiet, save for the occasional question from Peter that would be answered always by either Gilbert or Arthur.

The train was steadily growing nearer and nearer to the grand capitol of Spades. A full three minutes passed during which Arthur could look out and see nothing but the river below the narrow bridge they rode over. The ice had started to melt, but water crashed against the rocks with as much vigor as ever. Peter told him that from where he sat he could see buildings, no doubt the great city walls and the domed roofs and the not-so-faraway towers of the palace.

"Thought I would never see this place again…" Arthur murmured, staring out the window at the sparkling city. Alfred leaned them both over to get a better look. A grin spread across his lips when he realized that Arthur was talking about Ten.

"You missed it, huh Art?" he whispered. Arthur said nothing. To Alfred, words weren't necessary. He pressed his lips to the back of Arthur's neck. "We'll be there soon enough. A hot meal, a nice bath, and a good night's rest, that's what you need. I'm not letting you anywhere near your work until you've had at least one good night of sleep."

"I've been sleeping just fine in out compartment…"

"I mean in the palace!" Alfred raised his head. "Art, I don't know what they were putting you through back in Diamonds, but you're going to be treated properly now that you're back home. I'm going to make sure that you're well taken care of before you even try to start!"

"You two know that we only have about five more minutes until we reach the station?" The pair looked up. Gilbert sat facing the window, head in his hands. Peter was trying to fold a scrap of paper into a tiny boat for his cocoa. "We'll be there soon. I uh, hate to cut this little visit short, but we might not stay more than one night here. Bad time for us to be sticking around in any one place for any length of time. You understand, right Alfred?"

"Right, of course." Alfred paused a moment to slide Arthur off of his lap and onto the seat beside him. "You two are going to go back to your traveling… where are you off to next?"

"You know I can't tell you that!" Gilbert put on a fake scowl. Alfred laughed, waving his hand as if to wave away the idea itself.

"Of course, of course, I was just joking…" Arthur stopped listening around that point. Peter was going to be leaving him again. His tiny paper boat was currently half-sunken in his cocoa, and he was trying to pick it out with his fingers before it sunk into the drink. Arthur smiled and moved a little closer to Peter's end of the table.

"What are you doing there my boy?" he asked.

"Making more boats!" Peter held up the soggy piece of paper before setting it on his napkin. "Little teeny ones. It's fun!"

"I'm sure it is." Arthur sighed. His own little brother, gone as quick as he had appeared… "You're going to come visit me at the palace, aren't you? I would love to have your company. We can sit in the garden with little cakes and things."

"I'd like that sir." Peter looked up from his current paper scrap boat. He gifted Arthur a precious rosy-cheeked smile. "I'll come visit lots and lots of times!"

"I'll make sure we're well stocked with cakes then." He laughed and smoothed back the little boy's hair. "But you can't be gone for too long, I'll miss you an awful lot."

"No mister Arthur, I won't. I'll come back so that we can have cake together!" He reached up and took Arthur's arm in something that was just about close enough to a hug to send Arthur's heart aflutter. Peter's bubbly giggling made his heart melt and he was so tempted to give the boy a kiss on the forehead that he drew his hand away just to remove the temptation.

A few minutes later, they rolled into the train station. Arthur felt ready to stoop down and kiss the ground he stood on. If he could help it, this would be the last time he had to use one of those damned trains.

/ \

The moment Arthur stepped into the palace, hours turned into moments. People were everywhere, trying to let him know how glad they were that he was back, that he was okay, that the 'awful Diamond monsters' hadn't gotten to him. If only they knew… though if they did, Arthur had a feeling that things wouldn't by very nice for him.

Few times throughout the day did his mind manage to breach the surface of clear thought. Once he found himself in a steaming, honey-scented bath, half-buried under fragrant bubbles. Another time he was idly making conversation with someone important over dinner. He wasn't sure whom, they had said their name and he had merely nodded his head. Now he was laying in his and Alfred's bed, staring up at the silk canopy above him with his arms splayed across the sheets. His muscles ached. He would have closed his eyes if only he had the energy. Soft sounds reached him from around the room; birds chirped outside the window, and leaves rustled; somewhere in the far, far away he could make out the faint bustle of the palace; just a little ways away Alfred was getting dressed in his pajamas. Arthur didn't look up until he felt the bed dip beside him. By the time he could bother himself with thought again, he found that he was in Alfred's arms.

"You're tired, aren't you?" Arthur blinked. Was that Alfred who had just spoken? It must have been.

"Yes, a bit…" he muttered, rolling over to hide his face against Alfred's silk shirtfront. Gentle fingers ran through his hair and down his back.

"Maybe you should just take a little bit of time to relax? Just a couple of days? I mean, your work isn't going anywhere, so you could just take some time to get your energy back-"

"Alfred." Arthur sighed and reached to pull up the covers. "For heaven's sake, I'm not taking any time off. I just need a good night's sleep is all, just a good night's sleep…"

"Well maybe it isn't _just_ that. Maybe it's because you were locked up for so long in Diamonds, and you've gotten weak. You're certain that the King of Diamonds didn't… do anything to you? Anything at all?"

"Yes Alfred, I'm sure. In face, the King was a very pleasant host." Alfred's chest shook as he laughed at that idea. Arthur caught himself cracking a grin.

"You're lucky that I'm the only one who heard that." Alfred rolled Arthur over to face him and stole a kiss. "I understand if you don't want to talk about whatever did happen, as long as you're sure they didn't harm you."

"I'm quite sure." Arthur opened one eye. Now Alfred lay beside him, one arm draped over Arthur and the other working its way under him for a makeshift embrace. "I just… spent so much time locked up there, I suppose." Locked away in Francis's company, that is, practicing magic among other things. "For all you know, the King could have tried to lay with me like you do…"

"Don't say that." Arthur opened his eyes. Alfred had sat up. His eyes were wide with something like horror or anger. "Don't you say that. He didn't, did he? I swear I'll have his head if he did!"

"No, Alfred, he didn't." Arthur was quick to cover up his mistake. Idle joking, Alfred just had to think it was idle joking. "Nothing bad happened to me while I was there, and the King certainly didn't do anything bad to me. _Especially_ nothing like that." As long as Alfred heard what he needed to hear…

"Good." Alfred's embrace tightened. "He better not have laid one finger on you, Arthur, you are _mine._" Arthur blinked. He was lying on his side, in Alfred's arms. Alfred was clutching onto him like his life depended on it. His voice was but a whisper through gritted teeth, "_Mine_!" The single word send shivers down Arthur's spine.

"Alfred, for heaven's sake." Arthur squirmed a bit to get some breathing room. "Let's not argue about this anymore, I'm too tired to talk… if we must, we can pick this conversation up in the morning, but there's nothing more to discuss. Goodnight Alfred."

"Goodnight…"

"…Alfred, your arm is going to fall asleep if you keep it under me like that all night."

"It'll be fine."

"Alfred!" Arthur looked up at him. With great reluctance, Alfred shifted his arm to a place where it wouldn't get laid on all night. The remainder of the time until either of them drifted off to sleep was spent in silence.

/ \

Morning came and went. Gilbert and Peter ended up staying for two more days, and Arthur spent as long as he could doing fun things with his little brother. In the morning when it was cold out, they cuddled up in the library and read storybooks together. At noon they would have lunch in the garden, to the delight of the gardeners who would occasionally look their way and smile at the sight of a pair of brothers enjoying a meal together. The afternoon were for games of Peter's own creation, ranging from exploration of the gardens to an odd combination of chess and dollhouse.

Gilbert and Alfred made themselves scarce throughout their visit. Once or twice Arthur would check on them and be told that they were merely still talking. The question of what was never answered. He was sure it was something vitally important, but surely nothing that could make him want to squander his time when he could be skipping rocks or searching for dandelions with Peter. The odd duo left early one morning. After saying their goodbyes to Alfred, Arthur, and Yao they vanished into thin air, presumably to some other destination.

"So, did you ever tell him?" Arthur looked up. Alfred's good eye was fixed on him, and he had a small smile on his face. Arthur chewed at his lip.

"No, I didn't. I didn't have the heart to tell him…"

"Tell who, what?" Yao spoke up, arms crossed. "What are you two talking about?" Alfred said nothing and merely looked at Arthur.

"…that little boy was my brother, b-but he's forgotten because of something Gilbert did." He muttered. Arthur had never seen Yao with anything but a scowl on his face, so seeing his stern featured soften was perhaps as much of a surprise as getting to see Peter had been.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Yao placed a hand on his shoulder. "I suppose that a Joker's magic is a fickle thing… but at least he isn't dead, or worse, and I'm sure he's happy with Gilbert. He doesn't look it, but he's very good with children."

"That's just what Peter said." Arthur stared down at his feet. "I know I shouldn't be upset about him being so happy, but it's just… strange. I-I didn't think he would be so well off with someone outside of the family, we were all together for such a long time, and now we're all…" he trailed off. The last thing he wanted was to make himself tear up now, in front of these two. He caught Alfred reaching for his hand and let him, and Yao gave his shoulder a gentle pat.

"He'll be safe, if nothing else." Yao didn't smile when he spoke, but Arthur could tell that he was trying to cheer him up. "And I'll sure he'll come to visit. They're never gone for that long."

"Yes…" Arthur looked up, his eyes finding the place where Gilbert and Peter had stood just a moment ago. "I hope they do."

Conversation between the three didn't go on for much longer. Within a few minutes Arthur found himself in his study- an addition that was in the making while he and Alfred were on their way to Clubs- with a fountain pen in one hand and a stack of papers that he had to look over. It wasn't hard work, not really, but it was horribly tedious.

_Too bad you can't just get me to do it for you, hm? Don't even ask, I'm not offering._

"For goodness sake, where the hell have you been for the past week?!" Arthur scowled, leaving a large blot of ink at the end of his signature before he remembered to pull the pen off the paper.

_What, you don't think I'm going to come out with that Gilbert fellow around, do you?_

"What?" Arthur capped his pen. If this was the opportunity for a break, he would take it. "Why not? What's wrong with Gilbert?"

_He's a Joker, you dolt._

"And? What of it?"

_The Jokers are meant to 'protect' you royalty people. If he finds out that I'm up here, he'll probably try to get rid of me._

"Is that bad?" Arthur narrowed his eyes. "For me, I mean? Why am I letting you stay again?" He heard the demon scoff.

_That question is an insult to both of our intelligences. I'm up here because I agreed to handle your 'duties' as Queen, and because we made a deal until death. You let me in, Arthur._

"I most certainly did not!"

_But you agreed to let me in all the same, and until I hold up my end of the bargain and you hold up yours, I'm here to stay._

"Well… I agreed to let you take my responsibilities. Y-you've done a bit, haven't you?"

_I haven't done nearly what I agreed to, darling. You gave me your Queenship, and your body as a vessel by which to obtain it. In exchange, you have my service until death._

"S-so what? I've given up my body until…"

_Until death, yes._

Arthur clamped his hands around the armrests of his chair. "You did trick me! I knew it, I knew you would!"

_I didn't trick you, I just used you for your flesh body. Besides, it's not as if I've done you any harm._

"You could have cost me my life that night on the mountain!"

_Oh, you do have a point… but I did save you from an awkward night with Alfred, if I remember right._

Arthur opened his mouth to speak but stopped short. The demon was sort of right, he hadn't been at all ready to honeymoon with his husband when he had barely known him longer than they had been married. He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks at the thought of doing anything with Alfred. With them came memories of his time with Francis, all the lovely nights he had spent in his arms…

_You see? Without me there you would have had to commit yourself to that silly boy-king of yours without getting to… try new things, as it were? You know what I'm talking about._

"Sh-shut up…" Arthur covered his face. "I… What is it that you want from me? Why did you even do this in the first place? You've got my body, I don't believe that you would just use it to get your hands on Alfred."

_You would be surprised what I would do for a good… er, I mean, no, that isn't the only reason, of course it's not. But if I told you the reason then you'd probably get angry at me._

"I'll be angry if you don't tell me!"

_That's something I'm willing to risk. _

Arthur scowled out the window. It was a nice day outside, considering how cold it always was. The icicles had melted that morning, and if he looked hard enough and over the palace walls then he could see to the city beyond, and the people who were outside enjoying the weather. He didn't realize that he had put his feet up on the windowsill, but he didn't bother to take them down.

"You're going to tell me eventually…" he grumbled. "Mark my words, I'll make you tell eventually."

_Oh yes, eventually I'll have to, even if it's not until I'm dragging you down to Hell with me once this is all done._

Again he stopped himself about to speak. Of course he was going to Hell. Why wouldn't he be? He had sold himself to a demon after all, he had just never thought about it before. "Does that mean that I'll be separated from Alfred? I-if I'm going to Hell, then…"

_I wouldn't worry about that if I were you._

"What are you saying?"

_Now isn't the time to talk about it. All will be revealed with time dear, but for now I'm afraid I'll have to keep you in the dark. For now, just focus on living your life one day at a time. You're the Queen, you've got access to some of the nicest things in the land. You should be taking advantage of it._

"…I suppose." Arthur sighed. He loathed that the demon wouldn't tell him everything now, but he didn't want to get himself worked up now, especially not when it would be so easy to take out his frustrations with the fountain pen on his work. "Once I'm done with all of this work perhaps I'll have myself a bath."

_You should try the lilac oil with it, it's supposed to be soothing. If nothing else it will keep you from smelling like a pond, you filthy, filthy child you._

"Oh hush!" Arthur pushed his feet from the window and send his chair rolling back against the desk. Arthur barely managed to stop himself from crashing into the desk, and somehow he managed to catch his pen before it fell and left a horrid black stain on the rug. The demon's horrid sniggering filled his head. He propped himself back up and, though it was with some difficulty, tried to go back to work as if nothing had happened.

\ /

It happened early one morning, some few days after Gilbert and Peter left the palace, perhaps a week or two. Arthur woke to find himself alone in bed with the covers hastily tucked around him to keep him warm. He dressed himself slowly, lazily even, choosing something that would go nicely with his fur-trimmed cloak so that nobody would say that he couldn't wear it on such a chilly morning, even just to breakfast.

He didn't really notice the strange looks that the servants gave him until the third or fourth group of giggling maids quieted with his presence. Once he stopped to look at them with the hopes that they would explain, but they merely slunk away from his sight. The dining room was empty, save for a boy dusting the portraits and another polishing the knick-knacks on the mantle.

"His Majesty never came in for Sunday breakfast milord." Said one, "Somefin' important made them cancel the whole thing for the week, but there's prob'ly still some rolls and things in the kitchen if yer 'ungry."

Arthur left the dining room, jam roll in hand. What could possibly be so important that Alfred had gone and canceled Sunday breakfast because if it? Arthur hurried to his husband's study to find out.

"Alfred?" He poked his head in the door. Alfred was pacing the floor, arms behind his back. He looked up when Arthur came in.

"Oh, thank goodness you're here." Before Arthur could ask Alfred had come rushing towards him and pulled him into his arms in an embrace. "Don't worry Arthur, I'm here. We're going to get through this, I promise that much to you. Oh, Arthur…" Arthur's eyes wandered the room a bit. Yao was standing to the side, his solemn gaze fixed on the ground. Manus stood with him.

"What?" Arthur pushed at Alfred. "What on earth are you going on about? What happened? Why did you cancel breakfast?" Alfred stared at him in utter shock. That really scared Arthur. "Alfred, answer me, what's going on?"

"Oh God… nobody told you?" Alfred's expression steadily turned from worry to apprehension. Arthur glanced to the other two. They said nothing.

"…no, nobody told me. Told me what?" Arthur shut the door behind him with his foot. Alfred cringed and reached to take his hands.

"Arthur…" He started, clutching them to his chest. "Arthur, we've been working to keep this from happening for weeks, but there was nothing we could do. As of this morning, we… Spades is at war."


End file.
